Repercussions Of Femininity
by Vixen2004
Summary: When a predominant angst writer makes an attempt at comedy, the results are priceless. Picture Axel traveling around the worlds to find a soul mate in order to quench his desire for companionship and to prove to Larxene that he is not gay.
1. Prolouge

_Repercussions Of Femininity_

o-o-o-o

Author's Notes

I am writing this under the sole direction of my equally insane brother, Super Hyper Mario 128 III. (He insisted I advertise his screen name in the intro of my story for free publicity.) This is Vixen's first attempt at a comedy, dedicated to my little brother. He requested I take a break from the angst and try some humor. I responded by looking at him blankly. So he went a step further and gave me an idea. I claim no responsibility for the insanity that is about to ensue as I embark upon the fanfic. This is all his doing, he's just to lazy to write it.

o-o-o-o

I hate the cold.

Like, you have no idea.

And even though I lack the required blood to be a so called warm blooded creature, my affinity with temperatures that lie solely within the three digit ballpark is something that never left me, even in death.

Which is really just a pain, because being dead is usually associated with being downright frigid and frozen, and I'm all for sweltering droughts and suffocating heat strokes and having my spit boil when it hits the ground.

You spit here and it just kinda forms a stalactite, hanging from your mouth in a shoe string of drool and maybe glistening a little if you catch the light right.

And no, I'm not exaggerating. Demyx can't even use his own power without getting frostbite. (And, with such things in mind, it has become common practice for us to try and provoke him to use said power time and time again. He wizened up fairly quickly after Xemnas had to thaw him out of a self encapsulating ice cube.)

Regardless, Roxas and I determined that the only way to maintain heat in the god forsaken place was by either a: spontaneously combusting or b: wrapping ones self in a vast array of clothing and therefore taking on the appearance of a grossly obese nomad.

And Roxas refused to do the latter because, as he foretold to me in tones comparable to that when trying to diffuse a ticking bomb, 'That would not impress the ladies, Axel. And it's all about the ladies.'

Never mind Roxas is the only boy I've ever met that has more libido than brain cells. You couldn't even convince a celibate monk to walk around in the leather clad parkas we determined were necessary to prevent in the demise of freezing.

It wasn't until sometime later, on a night when we had too much caffeine surging through out systems to be considered healthy or even _legal_, that Roxas and I came up with the fool proof notion of stuffing our pockets with microwaved hot potatoes in a vain attempt to keep our nonexisting blood flowing through our nonexisting veins.

Under normal circumstances I would have refrained, but then again, under normal circumstances I should be dead, so to hell with logic, I think I threw that out with my conscious a long time ago. And hot potatoes seemed like the most plausible substitute at the time, since I think Vexen clandestinely enjoys sulking around in the dark and ominous shadows subzero in temperature—because god forbid we ever turn on a light in this damn place.

And I made my displeasure known, announcing that my balls were probably going to get gangrene from lack of circulation and I'd therefore have to cut them off, but no one bothered to install a heating system and Xemnas remained oblivious to all except his plans for world domination and perhaps the occasional sensual comment made towards Saix.

Perhaps if I bribed Saix into complaining, something may actually get done.

And this was what was traveling through my head, the chaotic hammerspace that it is, ripe with thoughts of blood and gore and whatever else a heartless villain is liable to ponder, for all apocalyptic fanfare starts to sound the same after you've spent countless years pissing destruction and eating the souls of mortals for dinner (slight exaggeration; but I figured the mental imagery was worth the impending doubts you will now have for my monologues) when I heard a rather disturbing crash originate from the kitchen. The dissonance was followed by a rather lengthy list of vilifications flowing from the lips of none other than my dear comrade Larxene. I once suggested, under the influence of alcohol, I assure you, that perhaps she give up her cussing for Lent, and was greeted with a swift kick aimed in the direction of my male genitalia. I determined from then on I would not be the one to confront the blond about her rather vivacious potty mouth.

I poked my head into the exceedingly warm room and was immediately drawn to the heat. While I had originally planned on checking to make sure Larxene hadn't managed to terminate her life (or second life, as it were) with a mishap concerning the microwave and then swiftly carry on in an attempt to avoid her impending wrath, I was caught up in the atmosphere of the room and couldn't stop myself from stepping inside simply to bask in the orgasmic triple degree heat.

And I guess that's how this whole thing started; with me being too warm blooded despite my lack of blood and Larxene being herself and teaching everyone within a three mile radius a new set of vocab words.

"I hate ovens!" Larxene screamed, though in much more endearing terms (please note utter sarcasm used to dictate previous sentence.)

"I hadn't noticed," I drawled insipidly, leaning against the threshold for unnecessary support. It was more for dramatic effect.

Larxene's head shot up, singed and burnt and black like coal, eyes glaring something lethal as they stood out like piercing sapphires amidst the darkened visage that was previously her face.

"I like the fashion statement," I offered helpfully, and she responded by deftly hurtling some nondescript kitchen utensil past my head with speeds rivaling that of a speeding bullet. I dodged accordingly, for flying objects were not out of the norm here, and resumed my previous nonchalance, leaning once again on the door frame and awaiting further elaboration.

"I was hungry," she quipped, wiping the soot off her face with one over dramatized motion of her hand.

"Yes, dear, I can see that."

"I was hungry and I didn't want to _wait_."

I paused in contemplation and began to saunter over. "For the record, I was kidding when I suggested you stick your head in the oven."

"I didn't stick my head in the oven," she hissed, showering me in a vast array of saliva. "The oven _exploded_ when I went to _check_ on my meal."

"The hell were you trying to cook, anyway?"

She should have known the oven was liable to go on strike at any given time. It's been like that ever since Roxas got bored with being the Chosen One and started throwing cherry bombs down any open orifice he could find.

"At least bombs are unpredictable," he had told me in the aftermath. "I'm so tired of always _winning_." His corresponding angst fest was not far off. I should have figured something was wrong when he started blowing stuff up. Probably some form of expression a shrink would prescribe him Lithium for. But I am no shrink and I am no doctor, so to me random cherry bombs going off around the castle was a wayward definition of _fun_ as opposed to _mentally unstable_.

"I don't…I don't remember," Larxene admitted, looking down at the charred masterpiece that was no longer edible.

The longer she stared at it, the more enraged she became. Females get oddly defensive about their cooking skills, and Larxene was beginning to look like she wanted to maul her own head off in addition to depriving someone of their visceral fluid.

Usually Demyx is the one nominated for cooking, since he is the best at handling food for reasons none of us can comprehend, but I suppose Larxene did not feel compelled to ingest what was on the menu for tonight and decided to go ahead and forge her own meal.

She then threw the aforementioned black…thing…into the garbage can, plate and all, and started to run through her laundry list of oaths; half of which I had never heard before. She kept alternating between different foreign languages (I guess swearing in plain old English looses its luster after a couple of years) but I think, at one point, I picked up hints of Portuguese.

I silently commended myself on my fantastic translating skills and then ventured forth with my verbal exchange.

I risked a glance southward and into the now smoldering garbage can.

"I've seen more appeasing things thrown up on the docks of Port Royal."

"Go die," Larxene pleasantly suggested.

"Um, been there, done that."

Larxene hissed something incoherent and went about on her usual merry rampage of destruction and mayhem.

I suppose she was trying to reassert her dominance, but I'm pretty sure the dignity got ditched along with the plate in the corresponding garbage can.

She lost. To an oven. How terribly amusing.

"Just because you're incapable of using something doesn't mean you should blame the object," I muttered off hand. "Personally, I think your own stupidity is the true culprit."

Larxene responded to my conceit with a rather mortally wounding glare.

"I don't recall inviting you to join in my cooking escapades."

"Don't you mean _attempt_ in cooking escapades?" I corrected haughtily, observing the scene. Larxene had taken over the entire back half of the kitchen in her vain attempt to make dinner for herself. From what I could see though the dense amount of smoke, and the remnants located at the base of garbage can, I concluded she was trying to make something that vaguely resembled pork chops but I couldn't be sure.

"So did you leave the microwave unscathed or was just the oven included in your destructive wake?"

"Just the oven," Larxene answered, over punctuating for dramatic effect.

"Good."

I approached the surprisingly immaculate microwave, well, at least when compared to everything else (for the microwave had fallen victim to more than one poorly undergone cooking mishap) and placed one of my potatoes in its premises. "So how was your day other than provoking the fire alarm?"

"Uneventful," Larxene responded, dismay not well hidden in her features. I assumed this meant she had yet to sate her blood lust for the evening.

"Aw, poor thing," I cooed, sugarcoating my voice with mock sympathy. I derived indescribable joy from taunting her. The reactions that ensued were priceless.

Larxene ran a gloved hand through her slicked back hair, inhaling sharply and trying to maintain her composure. She did not thrive well in heated areas, for she was much more accustomed to the cold than I, and it was becoming fairly obvious due to the amount of perspiration being exuded from her forehead.

"Your makeup is running," I keenly noted.

"So is yours," she shot back.

"Ahem, it's war paint, dear. _War paint_. How many times do I have to tell you people it's war paint?"

"Whatever," she dismissed with a prolonged exhalation of breath. "Either way, it makes you look like a whore."

I arched an eyebrow and left it at that.

Larxene filled in the silence with a couple well punctuated kicks of the aforementioned oven and followed up with another eccentric phrasing of damning it to hell.

Eventually the microwave beeped, and I faultily assumed this would bring an end to the lovely bonding moment Larxene and I were so happily sharing.

I would go back to my room and proceed to sulk over the loss of Roxas, and she would teleport to god only knows where so she could take vengeance vicariously through other beings that would grant her the pleasure of fighting back.

Wordlessly I removed said potato from the microwave, and after regarding it somewhat skeptically, I decided there was plenty of vegetation I could heat up at a later hour and opted to eat what was currently residing in my hand.

"Are you feeling alright?" Larxene took the initiative to ask. "You're usually more annoying than this."

She knew why I was melancholy. She didn't need me to tell it to her. Hell, everyone was melancholy right now. And she didn't need three guesses as to why.

I settled on glaring at her rather intently and going about my business peeling the potato.

"Hey Larx," I countered, trying to abruptly steer the conversation away from the topic at hand before I became liable to inflict vast amounts of bodily harm. "How many calories do you think a potato has?"

At this, Larxene regarded me strangely. "Excuse me?"

"Calories," I repeated. "The stuff that makes you fat."

"Did you just ask me how many _calories_ something has?"

I nodded affirmatively.

"I swear to God Axel," she muttered. "You are such a girl."

"What was that?" I queried, taken aback, though I don't know why. Usually Larxene and I trade insults and don't think much of it. It's just how we communicate. But this particular remark was somewhat out of character. I mean, it's perfectly okay to question Marluxia's sexuality, but I always thought mine was fairly obvious.

Larxene quirked an eyebrow at my less than favorable reaction.

"And now you're taking offense like one, too."

I stood there flabbergasted and tried desperately to come back with some sort of witty repertoire in order to defend my masculinity.

"Come to think of it," Larxene continued, mindlessly examining her nails, "You've been acting a lot less girly lately—you _sure_ you're feeling alright?"

I paused, my mouth gaping open in shock at this sudden interrogation concerning my gender.

"Um, I feel fine," I stuttered, holding a half peeled potato.

"Mhmm," Larxene drawled, staring at me dead on. "You seem rather depressed. You've been like that ever since your boyfriend left."

"My _boyfriend_?" I all but screeched, thus further proving my feminine tendencies. I felt my hands grow dangerously warm, as they are prone to do whenever someone sets me off (and more often than not, it's Xigbar.) "By boyfriend I hope for your sake you're not referring to Roxas..."

"Of course I am," Larxene replied in a saucy manner, extracting the potato from my left hand and removing a bite.

"Roxas was my friend," I snarled, snatching Larxene by her bony wrist and drawing her within three centimeters from my face. "And _nothing_ more."

Had my bodily temperature not been rising at such an alarming level, I would have spit sleet into her face. I could have dislocated her jaw; realigned her teeth; made her swallow her tongue. There were a whole plethora of options open to me through means of cruel and unusual torture, and right then I believed that Larxene deserved each and every one of them.

I could sell her organs on the black market. I could use her corpse to start a bonfire. I could disembowel all her digestive system and play jump rope with her intestines.

I could do a lot of things. I just had to decide on what.

"Aw, you're in denial, how cute."

Usually my anger is not something easily provoked. I know I'm in charge of the fire element and all, and sport a flaming red mane to go with it, but despite outward appearances I usually do a fairly decent job maintaining my composure.

At least until someone brings up my best friend in a less than complimentary terms.

Especially after his recent departure.

"I am _not_ in denial," I spat out, wrenching the half mauled potato away from my comrade.

"But you're not straight either," Larxene giggled, letting her hand drop lifelessly from the vegetable in question.

"Look, just because your pissed off you can't cook a meal to save your undead soul doesn't mean you have free reign to piss on the memory of Roxas and start making those lewd comments you're so notorious for."

Anger was beginning to boil up inside of me. All of the sudden, it didn't matter that the castle represented the arctic tundra in the middle of winter, or that on really cold days you lost feeling in your nose and your extremities turned blue. I was hell bent on preserving the few precious memories of Roxas I had left, and I wasn't about to let some wayward miscreant desecrate whatever pure of a friendship we may have had.

"Oh please," she drawled out, dismissing my hurt with a careless flick of her wrist. "When's the last time you had a girlfriend?"

I paused.

"I'm sorry, but how is that even relevant? When you're busy being dead, _sweetheart_, romantic endeavors cease to be the prominent thing on your mind. World domination kind of forces it to take the back burner."

"That never stopped Xigbar."

"That's because he became involved with _you_," I pointed out hastily. "And I sure as hell don't plan on doing that."

"Aw, you're affection is astounding."

I snarled something vicious and carnal, and I doubt it looked becoming.

"As is yours dear."

I inhaled sharply, glaring daggers and whatever other weapons of destruction you can think of at my half peeled, half eaten potato. Silently repressing anger is something I'm rather accustomed to doing, in great contrast to Roxas' usual boisterous air of bravado, but this time I was fairly certain even a well trained emotional vault like myself would be unable to withstand hiding the frustration I was currently feeling.

So in response, though without a single word, I chucked the potato across the kitchen, because I am stupid and I am lame and I am dumb and when under any sort of emotional duress that I'm technically not supposed to feel, I resort to doing highly illogical and counterproductive things.

"Ooh, such raw manliness."

"Shut it Larxie."

As I started to march definitely past her I felt an icy hand grasp my forearm with a strength I didn't know a female was capable of possessing, let alone Larxene, who was all skin and bones and two cobalt eyes.

"Prove me wrong," Larxene demanded, her eyes narrowing to twin vertical slits.

"…What?" I snarled in confusion.

"Prove me wrong," she repeated. "Get a girl. Bring her back. Show me you're capable of getting a girlfriend."

I paused, but only for a second, as I slowly contemplated such a drastic offer in my mind. Abruptly I came to the undisputable conclusion that she was insane. Absolutely and positively insane.

"I don't have time for this," I spat out and wrenched my arm away.

"Think about it!" Larxene proceeded to call after me as I stormed out of a room. "It couldn't hurt any; we all know you're dying of loneliness anyway."

"I'm already _dead_."

And after that, I ignored her. This was ridiculous. Why would I waste my time traveling around the galaxy trying to pick up a girl? I knew I wasn't some flaming homo intent on molesting underage boys with blond hair and a penchant for cherry bombs. I didn't need to prove that to anyone.

I continued to march down the halls of the castle, shivering now due to the sudden decrease in temperature. I had come tumbling off my precipice of adrenaline and was left with a cold sweat and eighteen million unspoken thoughts in the aftermath I wrapped my coat around me more tightly and pressed on, really wishing now I hadn't chosen to eat (or throw) that one potato.

She was kidding. She _had_ to be kidding. She didn't really mean what she was saying, she just wanted a reaction. She was just pissed she couldn't cook her weight worth in crap and I wasn't about to play the part of some pawn she could emotionally molest for her sadomasochistic tendencies.

Though, as hard as I may try to forget, and as much as I _wanted_ to forget, I couldn't help but acknowledge the daunting fact that she was right about one thing.

I _am_ pretty damn lonely.

o-o-o-o

Author's Notes

o-o-o-o

Alright; so I'm revamping old chapters because they were written some two years ago and desperately needed a face lift. Or at the very least some literature Botox. I don't know when I'll get around to reloading chapter two, and chances are if I haven't mentioned such in my author's notes I probably haven't. Regardless, thanks for reading!


	2. Beast's Castle Part One

Sorry for lack of updates. I got admitted into the hospital again...three cheers for massive pain killers. I was kind of at a lack of computers and word possessors. So if this chapter ceases to be as coherent as the previous one, blame the large amount of Percocet surging through my system. It's hard to write while under the influence of heavy duty drugs. Just as future reference, if I go disappearing again for any large amount of time, chances are I probably haven't given up on the story, I've just fallen sick again and currently incapable of physically typing it. It happens from time to time, and I inform you not to seek sympathy but simply so you are aware of my whereabouts on occasions. I feel the need to explain my disappearances ever since my two year abandonment of Flaming Shadows. Okay, enough with this. We all want some Axel, right? Of course we do. Yum.

AN: Later on in this chapter I poke a little fun at Broadway. Let it be known that I am in no way, shape, or form advocating that Broadway is anything less than amazing. I tease because I love; and I know enough about show tunes and musicals to shock half the human population. It's a gesture done in good spirits, so if you adore theater like me, don't get offended, just laugh and appreciate the fact that you have just encountered another theater dork. Okay, on with the show.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I know the predominate means of transportation among most Organization Members happens to be teleportation, but what kind of luck would I have with the ladies if I didn't make an effort to pimp up my ride?

Not that Gummy Ships are all that sexually appealing, I must admit, and given the current gas prices, this 'go out and get a date' venture was proving to be a much more expensive and time consuming endveour than I had originally anticipated.

It's funny how the mighty will fall when you insult their manhood.

I revved up the engines, feeling the familiar purr of the motor as the sound permeated the vacant metal hollow surrounding me. Personally, I adored flying. Auto pilot was a thing of disgrace and I never felt more in control then I did when I was behind a joy stick. Roxas and I used to bum around the galaxy all the time trying to pick up chicks. Granted, we failed miserably, but it was more evidence to present Larxene with that the two of us were, indeed, straight.

Of course, as my luck would I have it, I somehow managed to crash my previous Gummy Ship against the side of Pride Rock in a vast array of explosions and debris last time I went gallivanting out for a significant other. Roxas and I were shocked, and a little disturbed, to find our current planet of choice didn't exactly house any humans and in response lost control of the ship due to a sudden onslaught of embarrassed laughter and therefore crashed into the side of a mountain.

Hence why I was forced to resort to 'borrowing' Demyx's ship.

Please take careful heed of the word 'borrowed.' I have no desire to be associated with a neon blue piece of obnoxiously metallic fiber glass with the cursive words, "Heart Throb" embezzled into the side in a rich pink hue. I may as well attach a giant poster board with the words 'why, yes Larxene, I AM gay,' onto the front window pane and see if I have any luck picking up the visually challenged females of the galaxy. But it just so happens that Demyx is the only one stupid enough to leave his ship unlocked and I desperately needed to find a woman now. So, at lack of better options, I was forced to make due with the flaming ship of the century. Irony has no sense of subtle humor.

I began the ascent into the dank air around me, shooting past the moons and stars and clouds as I rose into the sky. I chose to make my departure at night, but I'm sure discreetness wouldn't be an issue. Regardless of what time I left, Larxene was bound to announce my plan the minute she noticed my lack of being and therefore making the whole spectacle twice as miserable when I returned home with the same marital status as when I left. That in combination with the unavoidable squeals that were destined to escape Demyx's lips when we discovered he was missing his "Heart Throb" would surely inform everyone from Saix to Xemnas about my departure.

Eh well, I left him a sticky note on the side of his door. He should get it after he's done cooking breakfast.

I fumbled around on the control panel, which is a hideously embarrassing incident for such a seasoned pilot like myself, but none the less I prevailed, and finally came in contact with the radar Demyx had hidden under a pile of guitar magazines. I smirked at the memory of the one time Roxas and I ceased to use it and crash landed on a planet that held nothing but animals. At least with this contraption I would be able to see what species I would be flirting with, preferably homosapien, but I would settle for a mermaid if I absolutely had to.

I listened to the radar as it hummed to life, covered in an inch thick coating of dust due to Demyx's negligence. I sincerely doubt he ever utilized the contraption for the same purposes I intended. Lights danced before me as the waltz of luminescent colors as small blips began to appear on the radar, each representing a planet, each representing my last chance at heterosexuality. It's scary how much impact a woman's careless remark can have. I scratched my chin thoughtfully as I glanced over my pending destinations as they floated before me. After much debate, I finally decided on choosing randomly. Very astute, I know. I closed my eye and enie meanie minie moed my way to a far off planet that went by the name "Beast's Castle." It looked desolate enough, shrouded in darkness and the like. I figured it would complement my current snarky mood rather nicely. The bio for the planet popped up adjacent to its hologram, proclaiming that the celestial being in question housed one of the princesses of heart, which made my adrenaline rise. Alas, there was hope. Apparently this aforementioned princess went by the name of Belle and had been residing there for some time. From the dreary surroundings and dismal atmosphere, my imagination inexplicably conjured up the mental image of a skin and bones gothic chick with albino skin and jet black lips pouring out her tortured soul onto a piece of paper into something that was supposed to resemble poetry. That was my initial reaction, given the circumstances. I tried to mentally prepare myself for some decent conversation starters since conversing with the melodramatic was never one of my specialties, unless you consider a couple side comments made in the general direction of Marluxia a conversation.

I began to steer the ship in the direction of the Beast's Castle, a little worried about how I was going to pull off the emo act without doe eyed Roxas by my side. That boy had the innate ability to successfully pout his way through anything. Unlike him, however, I don't posses fleshy lips and a twig like frame. I'm more attuned for sarcasm and wit, the adjective of adorable is not one commonly used in my description. Presenting the persona of starving artist would prove to be a difficult feat for me.

I mindlessly reached into my pocket to pull out a potato to nibble on. I needed something to distract my attention. Something to keep me occupied. Something to keep my mind off the fact that maybe the reason it was so melancholy in the here was because Roxas was no longer with me.

Ah, curse him. Curse that stupid little booger for leaving us. For leaving me. His best friend. He had no right to do that to us. No right.

At a desperate lack of options, I decided to turn on Demyx's radio.

Biggest mistake of my life.

Now, I have been exposed to the heinous before, I am part of the Organization after all. The concepts of blood, gore, and various other things that are capable turning one's stomach are not that foreign to me. However, nothing could have prepared me for the vast amount of pain that was about to present itself in my eardrums as I hit the power button of Demyx's radio. Decapitated victims and lost appendages had nothing in the way of torture compared to this.

Turns out Demyx is an advent show tunes listener, for I was bombarded with the truly feminine sounds of the infamous song "I Feel Pretty" taken straight from the hit broadway musical West Side Story. As I sat there with my mouth sagging open, refusing to accept the fact that my comrade listened to this and I had willingly conversed with him in the mean time, made me want to run to the nearest medical institution and have myself tested for the disease of flaming femininity, just incase it was somehow contagious.

Lord have mercy on my soul. If I had one.

My body eventually came out of shock and I was able to turn the radio off with great zest and gusto. I could practically hear Larxene in the back of my head nagging me about some random female characteristic I happen to posses. Funny how I turn to something for comfort and all it provides is torment. I was really in the mood the deafen myself with some good heavy metal but I guess—his infatuation with guitars aside—Demyx only listened to songs of the theatrical genre, leaving a metal head like myself at a devastating lack of options.

I put the ship into high gear, not wanting the silence but more emphatically not wanting the show tunes, and within the next half and hour I had arrived at a very desolate, dreary looking Beast's Castle, home of the presumed goth, or what would hopefully be my future girlfriend.

Landing the "Heart Throb" proved to be difficult. I could only fathom the chaos that would ensue if Roxas were piloting the thing. He never was any good at landing. He had no depth perception whatsoever and his vision absolutely sucked in the dark. We hit more tree tops when flying at dusk than I ever knew existed. He would have been having a field day if he saw me now. Imagining him rolling around on the floor in hysterics as he clutched his sides and mocked my lack of intelligence made the corners of my mouth twist into my patented smirk. It's amusing how I smile while I crash.

Take that as a multi facet conceit.

After ten minutes I had managed to crash/land into an opening in the woods as I fell from the sky in a hideous display of neon blue and pink with remnants of choruses of girls singing about their vanitity still lingering in my head. So much for that extra punch of testosterone I was hoping for.

I managed to fall out of the ship, slightly dizzy and bordering on the verge of looking somewhat intoxicated, ready to woo the love of my life into submission of my will as I whisked her away to the frigid place that I have come to call home.

The aforementioned ominous castle began to loom in the distance as I pressed forward through the dense underbrush of a rather unpleasant forest. I could hear wolves howling in the distance and I was beginning to get just slightly unnerved. This was not the romantic setting I was hoping for. This was one avent garde princess, that's for sure. I mentally started working on a couple emotional, heart wrenching poems in the back of my mind just incase I was forced to resort to winning her affections through less physical means. Given the surroundings, this Belle character did not seem to be one for cuddling.

Eventually I approached the astounding metal gate surrounding the premises and found it to be slightly ajar, which was terribly convenient, if not down right creepy, and decided I was attractive enough to let myself in.

I'm audacious. What can I say?

As my feet echoed off the stone cobble way that meandered before me in a vast array of bricks and various other random pieces of stone and rubble, I could have sworn I heard the far off trickling of water being produced from some unknown source. I peered around a conveniently placed well and found what a presumed to be one of the servant girls watering a rather sad looking plant as she kneeled over the frail thing trying to nurse it back to life. My initial instinct was to keep walking, but then the thought occurred to me after being dead for so long, my flirtation skills may be a tad bit rusty. Hitting on Larxene, which was always an endeavor laced with blatant sarcasm and biting remarks, never really provided much help as far as practice was concerned. Unless most normal females found it undeniably hot when a strange black figure approached them with a potato and teased in mock tones, "I could cook this better than you."

No. They would just find that weird.

It never occurred to me how sadly alien interacting with females had become since I died. Larxene was the only one with curves I had any contact with—well, Demyx aside—and in my many years of being dead it seems flirtation had somehow lost itself within me. Yeah, practice was definitely a priority. I'll hit on the servant girl in the mean time.

As tempting as it was to start out with the cliché line 'hey baby,' I refrained. Men in cloaks and hoods muttering provocative things like the aforementioned may be taken the wrong way. As I stood there in deep contemplation, the servant girl continued to water away, totally oblivious to the hunk standing behind her. Just as I had decided to settle on a very original 'excuse me' I stopped. Uniqueness is key, and I certainly didn't want to bore her before she even knew my name. Ergo, I scratched the back of my neck (keep in mind I kept it as casual looking as possible) and began to ponder again as the servant girl continued to look after the withering flower.

This was not going well.

I blamed my momentary lapse of reason on the previous show tunes and continued to conjure, my mind churning to the point where I thought I'd set my head on fire. After about five minutes of intense mental activity, I gave up and opted to go with an action so outrageous this girl would have to be lacking a soul not to notice me.

I promptly threw myself on the ground and started to writhe in pain.

"Argh!" I groaned in agony, the servant whirling around and dropping her watering pot. The ceramic collided with the stone floor and shattered the water apparatus into a tiny million fragments. "They got me!" I screamed, clutching my left leg. "The wolves! They got me! Ouch! Pain...pain!"

It was then that I got the first look at the servant girl. Keep in mind I took into careful consideration the fact that I needed to keep my eyes somewhat closed to make the act of desperation look convincing, but I left my right eye opened enough so I could at least have some sort of hint of the person I was dealing with.

"Oh my goodness," my victim breathed out, rushing over to my side. "Are you hurt?"

I was surprised with the amount of beauty this girl held in her simplicity. Her saucer brown eyes were rimmed with saline as she hastily brushed her mouse brown hair away from her damp forehead with a careless flick of her fragile wrist. She lacked make up and hard angles all together. Everything was soft, everything was smooth, and everything was innocent. It was intriguing but surprising none the less.

"Yes!" I spat out through gritted teeth. "Oh gosh, make it stop! Please! Argh!"

"Where are you hurt?" she demanded.

"My leg---argh---my leg!"

"Which leg?"

I paused. I hadn't decided on which leg.

"My...right...one..."

The girl, alarm still somewhat chiseled in her delicate features, seemed fully intent on ripping off my cloak and getting to the wound.

"Whoa, slow down there sweetheart," I smirked despite of myself and my so called excruciating pain.

The girl's head snapped to attention like she had been downing amphetamines.

"I thought you were hurt," she choked out breathlessly.

"Well, I am," I started slowly, only now realizing the predicament I had just gotten myself into. I had no wound to show her. "It's just...I think it's internal bleeding."

"Internal bleeding?" she repeated, shocked.

"Yeah," I responded, a little to fast for someone on the brink of death. "Internal. As in, you can't see it from the outside."

"...thank you for clarifying," the servant started slowly, still trying to edge away the fabric of my cloak.

Eventually my right leg was exposed, the pale stalky thing that it is, and the young lady was busy poking and prodding at my muscles and tendons trying to find bruising of some kind.

"It's my knee," I offered.

"You have internal bleeding in your knee?"

"...yes," I confirmed, filling in the awkward silence that followed with appropriate exclamations of pain. "Maybe you should alert the princess or something," I hinted to the female tending my appendage. "She should probably be informed of these things."

"Princess?" the girl repeated incredulously. "There's no princess here."

My heart stopped.

"Um, well than what are you?" I inquired, sensing the opportunity to throw in a smooth compliment alluding to her being the aforementioned royalty.

"I'm a prisoner," the girl answered simply. "My name is Belle."

_Prisoner_? How do I get myself into these confounded situations? While thoughts of a daring rescue were fresh in my mind, this Belle girl didn't seem to be the typical protégée damsel in distress. She also didn't seem to keen on leaving, since the gate was wide open and less than five feet away.

Ah well. She would do.

"What is your name Monsieur?"

I blinked at the unfamiliar title.

"Axel," I offered bluntly, because I am an idiot.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance Axel," Belle noted, her hand never leaving my knee. That gesture seemed to abruptly remind me that I was supposed to be wailing in pain and I immediately threw my head back and shouted out a long list of obscenities.

"Argh...pain! Ouch! Ya know...maybe you should take me inside..."

Belle arched a skeptical eye brow in my general direction.

"Of course," she agreed, though I couldn't tell if she was mocking me.

Eh, curse her for being intelligent and three steps ahead of my mentality. I'm sorry, but when your daily social interaction involves half crazed lunatics like Xemnas and gender confused individuals like Demyx, mental capacity is a trait I had only dreamed of my companions possessing.

Though I must admit, I did lose in the battle of wits to Larxene on numerous occasions.

Regardless, I was not expecting to actually have to exercise the gray matter in between my ears while flirting with the galaxy's large plethora of available females.

Belle extended her arm to my aide, and I eagerly grasped it with my own hand to help myself up. Of course, due to the current physical interaction I had conveniently forgotten I couldn't utilize my right leg.

Belle took heed of my abrupt face about and decided to confront me on the matter.

"I thought you had internal bleeding in your knee," she commented slyly.

"I...I do!" I stuttered, making sure to shift my body weight off its original center of gravity. I hobbled over to her side limp on my left side.

"I thought you said it was your right knee," Belle reminded me curtly, folding her arms over her chest.

"It is," I agreed, deciding now would be the perfect opportunity to lose consciousness.

I then inexplicably threw myself on the ground and pretended to pass out.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I can't really say I awoke because I was never really asleep. But I chose to resume consciousness about thirty minutes later, after Belle had surprisingly dragged me in by my hood and threw me in front of the fire. No, throw sounds too violent. More like dropped. She dropped me in front of the fire. Well, either way, I ended up in front of the hearth sprawled out in a rather interesting display of red and black. The smell of cinnamon reached my nose, and I found the spectacle quiet odd. I wasn't expecting such a homely scent to waft through the stagnant air of such a dreary castle. It was almost as if Belle was attempting to make this place home and refusing to admit to the fact she was failing miserably. I would know. If all it took was a nice scented candle to lighten the atmosphere of a room I would have decked out every floor of Castle Oblivion to the point where my light fixtures would borderline safety hazards. I wanted to somehow articulate all this to Belle, that I understood and felt sorry for her lack of belonging, but I was never known for saying things that needed to be said.

"You're up," she noted, looking up from her book.

"I'm lying here injured and your reading," I drawled out in jest. "You have no soul."

"Neither do you," she quipped, flipping a page while maintaining eye contact.

I grimaced. Give a girl a book and she gets too smart.

I looked down and noticed Belle had elevated my injured extremity on a rag tag assortment of pillows piled at my feet.

"I made sure I elevated the right one," she commented, heeding my line of vision.

"Ah, thank you." I propped myself up on my skinny elbows and gazed at Belle, who had now returned her interest to the book she was reading.

"Whatchya got there?" I inquired, attempting to make conversation.

"A book."

"Yes, that I can see. I have internal bleeding in my knee, not my eyes."

Belle attempted to repress a smirk.

"Aw, you're trying not to laugh," I taunted, choosing to state the obvious in hopes of humiliation.

"I most certainly am not!" Belle insisted, seeking refuge behind the cover of her novel.

"Liar."

Belle shot eye daggers at me. "Stop that!"

I couldn't help my laugh out loud despite myself. Tormenting people amused me so.

"So...you live here?" I prodded, trying to provoke a conversation.

"Unfortunately," Belle responded. "And where do you originate from, Monsieur Axel?"

I opened my mouth to proudly say, 'the world of darkness!' but then opted against it. Informing your date that you are, in fact, not living is probably not the smartest thing to do on the first get together.

"Eh, I'm not from around here."

"I gathered as much given your rather macabre choice of dress."

It took me a minute to digest her previous sentence. Intellectually this woman was whooping my ass. I couldn't tell if I found such intelligence amusing or demoting.

"It complements my complexion," I sneered off hand, attempting to be funny but feeling somewhat self conscious at the same time.

I took a moment to glance at Belle's book of choice and was alarmed to discover the novel appeared to be a couple thousand pages long. I couldn't understand why someone would want to indulge in the fantasies and thoughts of another when they had the perfect opportunity to think and reason for themselves. I personally don't think I could find enough words to fill up one thousand pages of paper, unless I was composing a list of all the characteristics Demyx happens to posses that drive me absolutely insane.

One: His flaming ship. Two: His flamboyant choice in music. Three: His agitating little preteen voice. The list will continue to accumulate, I'm sure.

"You read for fun?" I asked, craning my neck so I could get a better look at Belle's face.

"Yes, don't you?"

My immediate response would have been heck no, but I fought the urge to scoff and chose to play along.

"I'm actually a English professor a very well established university in my local community," I boasted, beaming with pride.

"Don't you mean _an_ English professor?" Belle corrected, arching her left eyebrow again as she peered at me skeptically over the rim of her book.

Damn.

"That's what I said," I lied. "I'm an English professor. I read. Constantly. Every day, almost. And when I'm not reading I'm writing. I compose long narratives and sonnets, mostly. I find it quiet therapeutic."

The aforementioned was, of course, the most horribly blatant lie in history. The closest I ever came to classic literature was hooked on phonics, and even then I could never get past the yellow cards. The last novel I read was in the fourth grade. It was some politically correct educational story book called "Chocobo Friends" and was about all these obnoxious yellow chocobos being all mean and nasty to the green chocobo just because his feathers were a different color. It was supposed to instill anti-racial virtues in our young impressionable minds but mostly we just made fun of the green chocobo saying he got sneezed on. In the end all the chocobos go to a mage and she switches them all to have rainbow feathers so everyone is equal and happy because they have all finally learned it's what's on the inside that counts. The book ends with a bunch of multi colored chocobos that look like wads of vomit skipping together through a field of tulips while holding feathers.

Oh the book was impressionable alright. Just look what it did to Demyx.

Regardless, I'm not sure "Chocobo Friends" was the type of literature Belle was accustomed to.

I could tell Belle didn't want to believe me, but since my lie involved reading in some form, she couldn't help but be interested.

"What kind of literature do you specialize in?" she pressed, trying to sound non chalant but failing miserably.

I bit my lip. What kind of literature was there? 'The one with words.' No, that would sound really stupid. 'Well, I personally find great meaning in children's literature like 'Chocobo Friends.' No, that sounded bad too. Even though I'm pretty sure Chocobo Friends won a Nobel Peace Prize in Traverse Town for the effect it had on the tolerance in the public schooling system.

It was then I caught a glance at the cover of Belle's book. "Poetry," I answered abruptly. "I thrive off poetry. I just love to analyze every meter, every iambic pentameter, and try to find the hidden symbolism in what the author is really saying. I find the art of the disfiguring the typical sentence structure into a series of prose so fascinating. The emotion that someone is able to provoke through a simple string of words is phenomenal. Don't you think so Belle?"

Wow, I was impressing even me. I didn't even know I was capable of regurgitating such a convincing spiel.

Belle's face lit up in response to my previous soliloquy and she immediately leaped over to my side in about three point five seconds flat.

"I'm actually reading this really touching poem now," she blurted out, unable to contain her excitement. My eyes bulged in response. What had I just gotten myself into?

"Oh...really now?" I started as Belle thrust open her book on my lap and jabbed a delicate finger at one of the pages.

"We should read it together!" she cried elated. I suppose to prospect of having someone to share in the thing you love can be quiet enthralling, especially after being isolated for so long. I momentarily felt a pang of guilt for using Belle's emotions against her, but the feeling subsided after I realized what horrors I would be subjected too...and I actually had to pretend like I enjoyed it.

"Reading a poem together can be one of the most intimate experiences of a lifetime," I smoothly responded, trying to figure out how I could somehow slip my arm around her and prop myself up on my 'injured' knee at the same time.

Belle squealed in delight and wiggled closer to me in front of the fire. I glanced wearily over her shoulder to see what torture I would be forced to endure.

Dance Across The Moon Spring

A little lonely child am I

That dances across the moon spring

I try to grasp it in my hand

The intangible object of your perfection

The icicle of your death

Is all I can manage to brush

In these lifeless fingers of love

As I waltz through this perilous life

Hoping to find redemption in the candle

And eternally your soul

I blinked a couple times in uncertain response.

"So what did you think?" Belle asked eagerly.

I think I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup and crap out a better piece of writing. But I can't actually articulate that. Instead, I chose to give a manly nod of satisfaction and respond with a very convincing, "Deep."

"I know! The symbolism is outstanding. I especially like the deep religious undertones, don't you?"

I chose to stare blankly.

"Like how the main character is losing the innocence of childhood in the beginning. The icicle represents death and the redemption from the candle is hope. The candle is a Christ like figure, don't you think? It's a symbol for light amongst death."

"...it's a candle amongst a bunch of icicles..."

"Well, face value, yes of course it appears that way, but that's not what the author is trying to say..."

It was my turn to quirk and eyebrow.

"How do you know what the author was trying to say?" I questioned.

"Because they wrote it right here."

"But what they wrote doesn't say that," I noted, re-glancing at the text just incase I missed a foot note that explained, oh say, the entire fricking poem. "Maybe the kid was cold and wanted some heat. He doesn't say anything about death and redemption—"

"In literature winter always symbolizes death, it's a characteristic that all classical literature has in common."

"Did they know that though?" I inquired.

"Did who know what?"

"The authors. Did they know winter always represents death when they were writing it?"

"...well, I assume so..."

"Because if not all the authors write by the same guidelines, how are we supposed to know what they're saying?"

Belle paused and thought now would be a perfectly good time to gnaw on her lip in confusion.

"I'm sorry, but when I see a candle, I don't see Jesus. I see a safety hazard. I see things catching on fire. I see little children dying. I see fire trucks and ambulances and charred flesh. What do you think a pyromaniac thinks when he looks at a candle? He probably doesn't see any Christ like resemblance either. If anything, I think the candle is a symbol for death and destruction, the author was probably trying to warn the world by using the candle as Satan."

"How can the candle be Satan?" Belle muttered.

"Well, think about it. Candle equals heat. And what do icicles do in the heat?"

"...melt."

"Yes. They melt. In other words, they're destroyed. And Jesus doesn't destroy things. Satan does. So the candle is Satan. Not Jesus."

"But then the icicles are still death..." Belle murmured.

"Okay fine, the icicles represent death. I'll give you that. But the candle is not a Christ like figure. I'm sorry."

Belle sat there with her mouth gaping open. Eventually she regained enough muscle contraction to pull her lower mandible up and was able to start communicating again.

"Your foot fell," she noted. I glanced over at my propped up internally bleeding knee and discovered that in the midst of my frenzy my leg had precariously fallen off of its designated perch. I suppose if I were really injured I would have been writhing in pain, but it was a little too late for that.

"I'm hungry," I blurted. "Maybe we should eat something."

Belle nodded. "That sounds like a good idea."

And with that, I tossed the book aside and hobbled to the dining quarters, ready to make my amazing proposition that would force Belle to simply melt into my arms and be reduced to nothing more than a seeping pile of emotional goo, ready and willing to be whisked away to Castle Oblivion by the most dashing man alive.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AN: Bah. You have no idea how much trouble I had writing this chapter. It took me over a week. And that never happens. Updates are insanely hard to keep up with. And it's hard with me being sick all the time, hence don't be surprised if this is not updated as frequently as I would like it to be. The only reason it got updated this fast it because of all the reviews I got for the first chapter. I was impressed the story was received so well, and therefore was inspired to write more. I'm posting this chapter as the half way point (each chapter will have two parts, I think) just to make sure everyone likes where the story is going and that it's actually funny. It's my first time writing a comedy, I'm self conscious. I can't tell if it's lame or amusing. So I figured I'd post it at a half way point so I could still make changes to the ending. Anyway, I'm exhausted. This was hard. Roar. Well, leave reviews, I don't know when I'm updating. Reviews help. Cookies help. Riku Plushies help. But sicknesses do not. So we'll see what happens.


	3. Beast's Castle Part Two

I return much quicker than expected. That, at large, is thanks to hopeislost908, whose beautiful and inspiring multi paragraph review fueled me to write more and update quicker than I originally intended. Also, everyone else who left a review, Story Weaver, Media Maiden, Ri, Anime Dutchess, LucyWolfLover, Tiffanie, Black C, Jolin, and of course Rhain...thank you for your kind words that made me feel all warm and tingly inside. Without the aide of your benevolencey, or the persistency of my brother's nagging, I doubt this story would ever get done. The abundant supply of Riku plushies have inspired me. Now more Axel is due. WOOT!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I knew beans could make your hindquarters sing but I never anticipated the beans themselves actually singing.

Well, maybe it wasn't the beans. Maybe it was the plates.

Regardless, that was the scene that was set before me as I entered the massive dining quarters for the first time. Musical dining utensils were pirouetting on the table joined with saucers singing duets with the pepper shaker.

Demyx would have been in heaven.

Me, on the other hand, did not fully appreciate the ability of my dinner sporadically bursting out into song and dance. Food was meant to be eaten, not entertained. I was going to suffer a severe guilt complex if I ate anything that was previously talking to me five seconds prior. At least from what I could tell, it seemed to only be the silverware that held the ability to communicate. The actual foods remained silent, which was a blessing. I didn't need my broccoli doing a break dance three seconds before I bit its head off.

"Um, Belle..." I started, surveying the scene of complete and utter insanity. "Does your china..._always_ do this?"

"No," she answered simply, taking her place at the far end of the table. "Usually they do acrobatics, too."

I plastered on a fake grin and smiled obnoxiously. "Oh, how precious."

I suppose in Belle's custom, it was considered normal to eat dinner a mile and a half away from your partner as you sat at opposite ends of an exceedingly long table. The only other seat available, aside from the one she had chosen for herself, was directly opposite and very far away from her. I sulked at the lack of proximity but knew better than to actually attempt to physically move the chair, for at the moment it was in the middle of helping set the table, and I had no desire to provoke the wrath of a dead tree carved into an apparatus for holding my butt.

After my chair was done setting the table, it gestured for me to take a seat, and I gingerly obliged. It tucked itself in and nearly crushed my chest against the side of the mahogany table in the process. Living here must take some serious getting used to.

"So, Monsieur Axel, what do you enjoy doing in your spare time, aside from reading that is?"

Belle seemed to have rebounded from our previous interpretation debate rather quickly, which is an attribute I find most attractive in a female. Holding grudges can be rather detrimental in a relationship. Of course, some grudges are okay to hold, like if your best friend abandons you for a blissfully ignorant life of perpetual amnesia and happiness, but we won't go into that right now.

"Me?" I questioned, like she could be talking to anyone else.

"Yes you. Who else would I be addressing?"

"Um...the silverware?"

"No, they actually don't have that much free time. I've asked before."

I had no witty repertoire for that remark.

"Anyway. What do you enjoy doing?"

I mindlessly grabbed a grape from a by passing plate as it scuttled before me and into the center of the table.

"I kill people," I said between mouthfuls.

It wasn't until after I said it that I realized the awkwardness of proclaiming such a macabre hobby.

Belle sat there frozen, grape halfway to her mouth but stuck perpetually in the air.

"Please tell me you didn't mean that in the literal sense."

Seeing the error of my ways, I abruptly stated, "Of course not! You know us English teachers, always communicating in the metaphorical sense...!"

"Yes, of course," Belle nodded in agreement, the grape continuing its journey to her mouth.

This was not going well. Belle was simply too smart to be lied too. This could be a problem further down in the relationship.

A dining trolley came whizzing by at that exact moment, carrying dinner and beverages for our dining experience. At least the service was reasonably speedy here in the castle. Not like there's any reason not to be, considering the fact that there's only one guest.

"Hey, Belle," I began, noting the extravagance of the meal place before her. "Aren't you only supposed to get bread and water as a prisoner?"

Belle blinked a couple times in uncertain response.

"I suppose that is the norm, but I'm not exactly a hostage. I'm more of a willing replacement for someone else."

I was torn between provoking a more elaborate response or letting the subject drop. I opted to let it drop, seeing Belle's face crestfallen immediately after admitting such.

"Excuse me sir would you like some tea?"

My attention was averted elsewhere as soon as I realized the silverware was talking to me again. I looked to my left and saw a giant tea pot with a rather elderly looking face gawking at me in my stupidified silence.

"Um, sure," I agreed, not wanting to offend the house hold utensils.

Before I knew it, a little tea cup popped out from the trolley and responded with a chipper "Thanks Mom!" when the aforementioned tea pot filled him up with liquid.

Holy crap. Did the dining apparatus actually mate?

The tea cup bounced over to my hand and awaited for me to take a sip. I glanced downward and saw the cup's face transform from an eager expression to one of hostility.

"It's a...man!" he breathed.

"That is my sexual orientation," I confirmed.

"It's a...human man!" I was failing to see why this was of such extreme relevance. I figured now was not the time to point out the form 'human' should be used in the past tense when concerning myself.

"Now Chip, be polite. It's not nice to stare."

In a lame attempt to avoid further inquiry, I took the cup and hastily started to drink out of it's...head?

Right as my lips touched the edge I felt the cup twitch and before I knew it, a large plethora of scolding bubbles began to form under my nose. They eventually bubbled over and began to char the flesh on my face. I threw the cup down after I realized this stupid little booger was intentionally trying to burn my skin off.

"Stupid little tea pot midget," I buffed, trying to maintain a manly composure and not whimper in pain.

"Do you have internal bleeding in your lip now too?" Belle inquired from across the room.

I glared.

"Chip! That was completely unacceptable behavior. I will not tolerate such disrespect. Off to the cupboard with you!"

I assumed the cupboard was the equivalent to the time out chair in kindergarten.

"I'm fine," I offered to the robust tea pot, just incase she was wondering.

"You'll have to forgive him," the piece of china pleaded. "He's still young."

"I didn't know my gender was capable of provoking such wrath," came my unmistakable grunt as I watched the cup sulk off around the corner.

"It was probably more your species than gender," the tea pot concluded, hopping over to Belle and serving her tea. "One lump or two dear?"

"Two."

"Two it is then. Now, what is the name of your friend over there?"

"Axel," I answered briskly. I was tired of the pleasantries. "Would you mind informing me as to why the tea cup was attempting homicide?"

"He's just jealous."

"Of what? Belle?" A disturbing mental image of Chip trying to woo Belle through various romantic endeavors entered my head. I pictured them falling in love and starting a family.

Can inanimate objects actually do that?

"No, not Belle. The Beast."

My mouth sagged open as I paused in confusion.

"Is he another house hold object I haven't been introduced to yet?"

Belle sighed at the reminder of this...thing.

"No, he's the head of the castle."

"I'm presuming he's not exactly human given his name."

"Well, he _was_ human..." Belle began, taking a cup of tea from the trolley. "...but a curse was placed on him and everyone in this entire castle, hence the talking plates and chairs, and there's only one way to cure the castle of this aforementioned dilemma."

"Have a garage sale?" I offered as a possible option. I received a deadly glare from the obese tea pot.

"...no..." Belle answered slowly, quirking an eyebrow at the thought.

"Just a suggestion."

Belle nodded and continued on. "Chip was just worried your being here would interfere with the curing process, that's all."

I wondered if Belle was intentionally trying to be vague.

"Elaboration is always appreciated," I hinted in a not so subtle way.

"I'm sure it is," she replied firmly.

Eh. She was definitely doing it intentionally. Moving on.

"About that past time hobby..." I remarked, abruptly changing the subject in that infamous awkward fashion.

"Oh yes. So you never told me what you did for a hobby, aside from reading."

The tea pot scampered off the kitchen, probably to get another one of her demon minions to come out here and scald me to death with their boiling little bubbles of wrath.

"I...um..." What do I do with my free time? Torment Larxene. Bum around the galaxy with Roxas. Make fun of Demyx. Occasionally kill someone. Plan world domination. Nothing too appealing. "I do crossword puzzles."

Oh my gosh. Lame. Lame. Lame.

"Really?" Belle asked, her eyes brightening. "Do you do them in pen or pencil?"

I blinked. "Pen, of course."

"Aw, I always do them in pencil. I love the assurance of the eraser, just incase I spell something wrong."

"Well I'm never wrong," I arrogantly replied. "So I don't require an eraser."

Belle paused after my previous remark.

"You're exceedingly haughty, do you know that?"

"So I've been told."

"It's not necessarily a good characteristic."

"Depends on how you look at it."

"Well _I_ don't deem it a valuable characteristic."

"Thanks for the opinion."

This rapid banter continued on in a witty like fashion until one of us ran out of steam. In the back corners of my mind, I secretly worried it would be me, but I refuse to admit such things out loud.

The trolley made its uncalled for return, ushering us with a plethora of main entrees that I had no idea how to pronounce or eat. The last time I checked, the primary purpose of food was to be digested, not admired. But there I was, being presented with some elaborate display of various meats and vegetables, none of which I had any idea how to dismember and place in my mouth. I poked the carefully arranged pile on my plate with the tip of my fork, just to make sure it wasn't going to render any unexpected vocabulary or dance moves when I placed it in my mouth.

Funny how I can kill demons and Heartless without a second thought, but I suffered a serious guilt complex when it came to eating talking food.

"So what was your childhood like?" Belle inquired. I watched her start to dig into her plate, elegantly of course, and tried to copy her movements in a similar fashion. Apparently I was supposed to begin eating the middle of the entrée first.

"My childhood?" I blurted. I don't think Belle was aware of the significance of such a statement. Once you become a Nobody, you try not to think about such things. You no longer exist. The people who participated in creating your past are incapable of interacting with you ever again. Dwelling on memories that involve emotion and love and hope are all foreign to someone who's been dead for so long. We're not supposed to feel loneliness and despair and guilt. We're not supposed to feel anything at all. Yet we did at one point. We remember feeling feelings we can no longer feel.

Yes, this keeps me up at night.

And for the life of me, given the previously defined criteria of being a Nobody, I couldn't figure out why I felt such a desperate longing for companionship if my soul no longer existed.

It's not something you discuss at the dinner table, either.

"I had a sister," I began awkwardly. At least, I think it was a sister. It may have been a brother. Childhood memories have a tendency to become rather hazy after such an intense period of trying in vain to forget them. Most memories tend to fade after one meets their fate of becoming a Nobody. The only moment I can recall with much clarity, which is the same as any other doomed member of the Organization, was the moment I ceased to prevail in human form...in short, when I died. But we try not to refer to it in such terms. It's depressing.

"Really?" Belle began. "What was her name?"

Aw crap. I don't remember her name.

"Do you have any siblings?" I cut in. I knew Belle didn't realize the significance of all of her personal questions, usually inquiring about someone's family members doesn't trigger thoughts of the meaning of existence and whether or not they have a soul, but I of course don't have the pleasure of referring to myself as normal.

"No..." Belle started, confusion written subtly in her features.

I pushed the food around on my plate a little. I found myself, surprisingly, missing Demyx's cooking.

Add that to the list of things I will never admit out loud.

It was at this point I heard a very loud crash originate from somewhere in the mysterious realm of upstairs. At first I presumed that one of the kitchen utensils couldn't take it any more and had thrown themselves off the balcony. But then I saw the annoying china demon minion hop out from behind the cupboard with two bulging eyes and a slightly tremulous form.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be in time out?"

China Demon Minion glared at me. Then he blew bubbles in what had to be an inanimate form of intimidation. I scowled accordingly.

"Oh dear, he's awake," Belle murmured, surveying the elaborate table setting she couldn't so easily hide.

"Told you you should have had bread and water."

My astounding foresight was never commended.

"Is this the fabled Beast we're all talking about?" I asked, just to make sure we were on the same page and the creator of the noise wasn't simply an irate washing machine or some over worked stove voicing their disgruntled nature.

"Yes." Belle answered simply. "You should leave. Now."

"But we were growing so close," I said in mock distress. In reality, I knew I had screwed this relationship over, probably beyond repair, and didn't really enjoy being intellectually brain whooped by a girl half my size.

It's alright with Larxene though because, ya know, she kills things and stuff, so being totally demolished by her is expected. She's more of a challenge than an irritant. Besides, I was capable of getting under her skin just as much as she was mine. This Belle chick, however, was inpenitratable. And I don't like that. I need someone I can annoy. Not someone who just gives their official seal of disapproval continuously.

Belle shot up out of her chair and ran over to me, grabbing my arm and trying to lead me out the main door.

"Ouch, my knee," I remarked sarcastically.

"Shut up and get over it."

It's so terribly amusing when a book worm is pushed over the edge.

We had almost made it out of the castle, which disturbed me a little seeing as though I didn't want to leave until I shattered China Demon Minion by throwing him down the stairs (or something of equivalent damage that would result in him ending up in a million tiny little pieces) so he could feel the reciprocated wrath of one of his unexpected victims.

You don't mess with a Nobody. Especially one who has an abnormal fascination with burning things.

Right as we were under the threshold of the massive door leading out into the courtyard, the site of my excruciating pain and internal bleeding, a massive fur ball leaped from the above balcony and landed directly behind us. I kid you not. This thing flew from the ceiling. Apparently the stairs were too much of a hassle.

I turned around to come face to face...well, technically chest, my physical stance is not that impressive...with this massive cross between a bear and a wild wart hog. I craned my neck to see a lovely set of glimmering teeth, accompanied by two pointy horns protruding from the top of the aforementioned thing's head, and an impressive glare whose intensity I have only seen attempted on the unforgettable face of Larxene.

"You didn't tell me the rugs took on human form too," I interjected.

Belle paled in response.

"I'm the Beast," the creature responded, leaning dangerously close to my face. The thought of setting his fur on fire crossed my mind, but if I fried him then the castle would have no hope of ever returning to normal, not that I cared whether or not China Demon Minion ever got his toes and fingers back, but my singing spoon didn't do anything wrong and probably deserved to have his flesh and bones returned.

"The Beast?" I repeated. I turned to Belle. "You're ditching me for this thing?"

I received a roar in reply. From The Beast. Not Belle. Obviously.

"Why are you trespassing in my castle?" The previous question was handed out in a deep growly voice, which I suppose under normal circumstances would have been intimidating, but with me being dead and all it's not like I have to worry about him killing me.

"Because I have internal bleeding in my knee," I answered.

The Beast paused for a moment, clearly taken aback by the randomness of my response.

It was an awkward moment.

I suppose I was serving as a hindrance to his usual momentum of roar, jump, and intimidate, and was probably ruining what was usually a pretty scary scene. I watched as Belle in vain tried to explain why I was present in the castle. She has an interesting slew of questions hurled at her, I suppose this wasn't the first time she had ventured out for more than bread and water for dinner, and The Beast even went so far as to personally check the dinning room for any tell tale signs that Belle had been up to something. It was at this point I assumed we were both screwed, but was amazed to find the entire dining room, food, silverware, trolley, and all, was completely devoid of any of the evidence of a dining experience. I suppose it makes clean up a lot easier when the silverware can just get up and walk themselves to the dish washer.

"I told you," Belle answered icily, "I found him just outside the gates." Lie. "And I brought him in because he was severely wounded." Lie. "I let him rest a little while in the den." Lie. "And now I was just going to accompany him out of the castle." Lie.

And she thinks I make up stuff.

The Beast grunted in response and proceeded to sulk off into the shadows. Funny how such a well read girl remains interested in such a hardly articulate animal.

I suppose Belle took The Beast's dismissal as permission to escort me off the premises and lead me by the arm into the court yard.

Once out of ear shot of the walking talking rug and all of his singing dancing henchmen, a particular china tea cup comes to mind, I turned to Belle and abruptly offered, "Ya know, you could just leave with me. My ship is right off in the woods there."

I know Belle wasn't exactly someone I could picture myself spending the rest of my life with...well, metaphorically anyway...but even I am capable of exuding some sort of benevolencey when it comes to girls being held hostage by china and fur.

"You're not my type," Belle responded curtly.

"Oh, and he is?"

Belle simmered in her discontent.

"I'm not saying we have to go off and get married or anything, but I could at least drop you off somewhere..."

"I would rather be with him than you."

Oh. Ouch. Cut me down by the knees. My internally bleeding knees.

We had by now reached the gate of the castle, where Belle promptly let go of my arm and turned around to leave.

"Would you mind telling me why?"

Belle stopped short. "Why what?"

"Why you would rather stay in a dark, dreary castle with a temperamental animal then be whisked away by a charming man to freedom and a life of happiness?"

My subtle hints concerning myself were not appreciated and didn't receive the smile I was hoping to obtain in response.

"I have never met a man so arrogant yet so uncomfortable with himself."

I paused. I suppose this was supposed to be a much deeper remark, something I was supposed to meditate on an analyze and search for more significant meaning, but given my previous experience with Dance Upon The Moonbeams, or whatever the heck it was called, I figured I was better off just asking.

"So what was that supposed to mean?"

"You change your personality to whatever you think I want you to be. If I didn't know any better, I would say you were schizophrenic. Besides, you have testosterone leaking out of every pore in your body. Ego and superficial fickleness is not something I want my significant other to have. The Beast may be loud and obnoxious, but at least he doesn't hide anything and try to be someone...something...he's not. What you see is what you get. With you it's a new lie every ten seconds. A new lie sugarcoated with your lame attempt of haughtiness and personal self esteem boosters you have to give yourself because no one else will do it for you."

I was rendered speechless for ten seconds after Belle was done delivering her soliloquy.

"Do all girls give speeches when they break up or is it just you?"

"Break up!" Belle shrieked. "We're not breaking up! We were never going out!"

"...it was a joke darling."

Belle fumed, probably reacting to the fact that I called her darling, and offered a brisk, 'Well I wish you luck,' and turned to leave.

I knew better than to follow.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I walked back to my ship in solitary. Not that I was really expecting to cultivate a meaningful relationship with a girl I have only known for two hours, and of whom I had no idea even existed two days prior, but I would have settled for companionship at this point. I offered her a ride to anywhere in the galaxy. I received PMS in return. I suppose confronting her loneliness and dire situation was not a way to win her over. I guess admitting I liked to kill things didn't help much either. In addition, I had caught various side comments made under her breath, most having to do with me striking a similar correlation with a man named Gaston, but I knew better than to inquire further. I personally think I exemplified great restraint when I didn't lunge for her jugular during the previous conversation, though lunging for the jugular is more of Xemnas' style. I suppose I harbor some sort of pity for the girl. It's not like she was able to practice her social skills on a normal basis. Unless she felt like striking up an enlightening conversation was the chandelier or some other random house hold object. She probably needed some Prozac. I shouldn't take anything she said too personally.

But I am not fickle.

I eventually made it back to my ship, tired, alone, and defeated. I dragged myself up the ascending stairs and into the cockpit. I slumped into my driver's seat, well, technically Demyx's driving seat, and wasn't even up to making wise cracks about the décor of the Heart Throb's accessories.

If I'm not supposed to have a soul, why do I feel so offended?

OOOOOOOOOO

My eyes shot open and I thrust forward in my seat. I had fallen asleep. Oh gosh, I fell asleep in the Heart Throb. I probably need to be disinfected.

I began to violently rub the sleep out of my eyes so I could charter a course to the next planet as soon as possible. I was gleaming over my options, praying fervently that my next romantic endevour would prove to be more successful than my previous one, or that in the very least I'd be spared a monologue of contempt at the end of it.

"Crossword puzzles?"

Caught off guard, I whirled around in my seat and poetically landed face down on the cold metal floor, sprawled out for all the world to see. I craned my neck up from my lovely deposition and met the icy gaze of my ever so gentle comrade, Larxene.

"Miss me already?" I remarked saucily.

Larxene didn't play along.

"Demyx cried when he found out his ship was missing."

I sat up and rubbed my head. "He _cried_?" I repeated incredulously. That was wussy even for him.

"He's out looking for you in Saix's ship. I think he's plotting murder."

Larxene made herself at home in the Heart Throb. She picked the shot gun seat and lounged in it side ways, sitting her feet in the air and resting her arm effortlessly on the dash board. Funny how she can be in a place for less than thirty seconds and act like she owns it.

"Saix's ship? How did he manage to get his hands on that?"

"He promised Saix he wouldn't talk to him for three months. When people heard that, he had any ship he could want at his immediate disposal."

I smirked at the appealing mental image.

Slowly I was able to clamor back into the driver's seat. After regaining my composure, what little was left of it anyway, Larxene cleared her throat.

"You don't really do crosswords, do you?"

I closed my eyes in humiliation.

"You heard that?"

"I heard a couple things."

I didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused with her clandestine eavesdropping.

"I stuck Chip in the washer machine after you left. I set it on spin cycle for three hours. He'll be throwing up tea for a week."

Regardless of my current mood, I laughed out loud. I never thought I'd see the day where I'd be thankful for Larxene's sadistic nature, seeing as though it's usually directed at me.

"I notice you're lacking a female presence on this ship," Larxene noted in a superior manner.

"Um...you?" I reminded her.

"I don't count, I'm dead," she retorted flatly.

I quirked my eye brow in silent acknowledgment of the fact.

"Goth Chick Belle not all she's cooked up to be?"

"Well, she definitely needs some happy pills or something," I grumbled, fiddling mindlessly with the switches controlling the radio, which was on mute, and would be for the duration of my quality time with the Heart Throb.

"That's probably from spending so much time with you," Larxene snipped, twirling her hair around her index finger.

"Ha ha, funny."

"So I'm assuming you failed?"

"Failed is such a harsh way to put it."

"Well I don't see her here."

"I don't date intellectual snitches." I turned to stare directly at Larxene. "I guess that rules you out."

"Maybe she doesn't date homosexual men who wear make up and do crosswords."

I can't win with these women.

"I'm not homosexual," I growled, flicking the radio controls harder than before.

"Roxas is in Twilight Town if you get tired of hitting on females."

I returned her comment with my super glare of doom usually reserved only for when dealing with Demyx or when someone threatens my life.

Larxene got up to leave, even though she looked like she was going to say more, I suppose my glare stopped her, and right as she floated past me in a cloud of perfume and hairspray, I stuck my foot out ever so discreetly and didn't even crack a smile when I heard the satisfying 'thump' as Larxene hit the floor.

She stood up with a string of cuss words and a bloody nose bent grossly at the wrong angle. Usually I would have felt bad about such consequences but I think she deserved it.

I heard the unmistakable whirr of a teleporter as Larxene summoned her mode of transportation to return to Castle Oblivion. She continued nursing her bloody nose and cursing me to hell until the teleporter grew large enough for her to step inside.

"I can't remember my sister's name," I shot out, right before she turned to leave.

Larxene looked at me.

"Why would you want to? You can never go back. It's better off forgotten."

I made no acknowledgement of her comment, didn't even bothering making eye contact or doing so much as turning around. To this day I still don't know what inspired me to share that with her. Perhaps, with Roxas gone, she was the closest thing to a friend I had left, even if I had just broken her nose.

Cursing me one more time for good measure, Larxene then turned around and disappeared into the sea of purple and blue that lied beyond the teleporter as it swallowed her whole.

Alone, once again, I was left in the same sorry state I was beforehand, only now I had the satisfaction of breaking Larxene's nose.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

This chapter took me three weeks to write. Whooie. Still sick, so my writing time was sporadic and severely limited. My parents whisked me away on vacation because I was on, what they thought, was the road to recovery. Turns out it wasn't the case, which I soon discovered upon arriving at Disney World. Don't get me wrong, Walt was a genius in whom Kingdom Hearts couldn't exist without, but Mickey Mouse is much less appealing when you're ready to keel over and feel like dying. So that's where I was; I figured I owed an explanation for yet another multi week disappearance. I feel incredibly guilty when I don't give reasons as to why I abandon stories. I'm just quirky like that. Though I do have some good news to share for you. Well, it's bittersweet. Due to aforementioned health issues, my highly anticipated college experience is being put on hold for a year. Sad for me, good for you. Originally, I planned on putting all fanfictions on hold for four years while I was in school. Yes, four years. I wanted to concentrate on my school work. But seeing as though I'm taking a year off to, well, get better, it looks like I will have plenty of time to finish most, if not all, of my fanfictions, including this one. I just wanted to say **EVERYONE'S SUPPORT IS INCREDIBLE**. I adore all your reviews, I actually got some while I was in Florida (my dad brought his laptop for business reasons) and they really did make my day. This fiction helps take my mind off things. It's nice. I appreciate having such a lovely community of cyber buddies to return to. Okay. I'm done. On to the next chapter. Being in Disney inspired me to write more. Mulan is next.


	4. Land Of Dragons Part One

Wootie Wootness. I have made my triumphant return. I adore all the lovely reviews. They make me feel all warm and tingly inside. Expect an update soon, I have the next chapter half way done...WEE! Now read and enjoy. (Hands Hope and Rhain a cookie for very long reviews.) Also, thanks to the new reviewers: ninja, erin, nobody, and genius. You made me smile.

OOOOO

"There are times where, honestly, I just want to take her scrawny little neck in my hands and squeeze it until she keels over dead."

"You know you can't do that."

"No, no, I really think it's justified. Some people just deserve to die."

"Yes, but I don't think you should be the one to carry the deed out."

"Oh please. Who better than me to demolish existence?"

"Roxas!" I shouted. "You can't just run around killing people!"

My comrade looked at me donning his infamous pout that made his placid face and doe eyed stare make it seem like I was staring at something ripped straight off of a child cereal box.

"But why not?"

He asks like he has the right to this macabre hobby. Yet he puts the aforementioned forth with such innocence I feel stupid even questioning it.

"Because...I just think it's probably more productive if you kill people your own size, that's all."

"...so I can knock off Demyx?"

"No Roxas," I muttered exhaling. "Demyx is taller than you."

"Well then why can't I strangle Larxene?"

"Because..." I started, letting me head roll back onto the head rest of my chair. I inhaled to vocalize some random excuse and, upon finding none, I closed my eyes and prepared to admit the truth. "Honestly?"

"Of course," Roxas replied in his usual definite tone.

"...Larxene would kick your ass."

I was already prepared for the sneaker that came hurtling at my head at sixty miles per hour.

"Gosh Axel you're such a _loser_ sometimes, ya know that?"

"So I've been told."

Roxas stomped across the metal floor of my late gummi ship to retrieve his previously hurtled shoe.

"By who?"

"Half the Organization...though in less endearing terms."

"Well," Roxas grunted as he tried to ram his foot into his shoe...since he was too lazy to untie the stupid thing... "you deserve it." It was at that precise moment Roxas' shoe decided to go on strike and the boy came toppling over flat onto his face. "Ouch," came the muffled response.

And that is the Roxas I remember. The quirky, psycho Roxas. Not the super angst ball of doom that sulked around all day in the dark acting like the world owed him something just because he was dead.

We're all dead. Get over it.

It's almost as if he thought he had the right to be enraged at the universe. And me, of course, being the obligatory best friend, had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of all of his deep, depressing questions as he pondered his meaning of existence and his fate as a Nobody.

It got to a point where I almost longed for Larxene's insults just as a change from the philosophical debates that I had previously been having 24/7. Not that I ever blew the kid off (friends just don't do that, even if they have no soul to speak of) I sat on my sorry rear and listened to every whiney complaint that poured out of his mouth. And how does he repay me?

He gets up and leaves.

So I'm stuck with all the contemplative, depressing thoughts and he's off stuffing himself blissfully with that god forsaken sea salt ice cream in that sad excuse for a civilization commonly known as Twilight Town.

And he doesn't even remember half of it.

It'll hit him one day. One day he'll wake up in bed and find it slightly odd that he can't recall anything past the age of sixteen; that maybe his insanely quick reflexes and skill with a sword—or any blunt object for that matter—were more than just hereditary. That perhaps he doesn't really look all that much like his parents, his siblings, his relatives. That maybe one day he'll start laughing at an inside joke he doesn't remember making, because the person he made it with no longer exists in his memory.

Maybe the person just no longer exists. Period.

Gosh...am I even a _person_?

This is what no radio does to me. I chose to blame Demyx for this sudden, uncalled for onslaught of recollections. You should too. If he didn't have frickin West Side Story in his CD changer, and maybe if he tried actually fixing his stupid radio on occasions, I would be happily bobbing away to some heavy metal or punk rock.

Heck, I'd even settle for bubble gum pop at this point.

But no. Silence is prevailing. And I am getting slowly more and more depressed. Oh, and let's not forget Belle's uplifting soliloquy was still lingering in my head. So I don't exist. I have no soul. I look gay. My friend doesn't remember me. I'm frickin dead.

_And_ I'm fickle.

I should turn this ship around and run that snitch over with it. Then I could return the beloved Heart Throb scratched, beaten, and blood stained.

"Yes Demyx, this is what you get for putting frickin show tunes in your CD changer."

Oh, this might actually not be such a bad idea...

Right as I was seriously starting to contemplate ending Belle's life with the nose of the ship, I accidentally hit the virtual map with my elbow and initiated its immediate pop up on my display screen. My attention was drawn elsewhere by all the pretty flashy lights flickering in the corner of my eye.

What can I say? Shiny things entice me.

As I sat there and gawked at the uploading map, I noticed a particularly luminescent planet that was a very intriguing shade of red. Ahh yes, red. Like blood. Like Belle's blood. On my ship.

Crap. Did I just refer to the Heart Throb as mine?

I'm going insane. Absolutely. Totally. Insane. And borderline homicidal. Though I don't know who I'd knock off first. Belle or Roxas.

"_Roxas, you can't just go around killing people_!"

He can't. But _I_ can.

Ya know, one day that's gonna hit him too. He'll be walking down the street, and all of the sudden some preteen brat is going to trip him, and he's going to be overcome with an intense desire to murder the little adolescent right where he stands. Just lash out and kill him. And he won't be able to. Why? Because he's not a Nobody anymore. Now he has to do jail time. But he should have known that gut feeling of destruction would never leave him. You can't just stop being a villain. You can't just ignore what's been in your blood for decades.

You would think with all that confounded brooding he would have stumbled upon that one.

Regardless, Roxas is not coming back, and I am not fickle.

Now it's time to look at the shiny planet.

Apparently the aforementioned shiny planet goes by the name of Land Of The Dragons. It sounds enticing enough. If it's home of the apparent dragons, it should offer plenty of violence, which was a good thing considering I am in the desperate mood to kill something. Breaking Larxene's nose just wasn't enough.

I immediately grabbed the joy stick and manually steered the ship in the direction of Dragon Land, or whatever it was called, and put the flaming hunk of junk into hyperspeed so I could get on with the killing all the sooner. Finding a mate on this planet was highly unlikely, but an Organization member can only go so long without blood shed. It's how we're wired. We weren't always like that, especially in our previous human form, but once we crossed over it was like some mental switch in our brain clicked and we sporadically functioned on a kill kill kill basis.

Right now I was functioning on that basis.

Hyperspeed is an amazing thing, and thankfully Demyx hadn't managed to break that on his stupid ship of doom too. I was plastered against the back of the seat due to the intense acceleration, and if I had actually managed to eat anything at that extravagant, personified dinner at my last pit stop I was almost positive I'd be revisiting it sometime soon. Of course, hyperspeed eats up the gas like you wouldn't believe, and under normal circumstances it's supposed to be reserved for cases of dire emergency. But if I didn't get my blood fix soon, I may very well lop off Larxene's head next time she came prancing in. Not that Larxene prances anywhere, for that matter, and not that lopping off her head would kill her either, but if I impaled her straight in the void where her heart was supposed to be, I may succeed in permanently maiming her if nothing else.

Best to get to The Land Of The Dragons as soon as possible.

Before I knew it, and before my stomach made its permanent residence next to my back bone, I had arrived at the glistening red planet in approximately five minutes. Happiness.

I began to lower the ship into the gravity field, Roxas of course being brought to mind at the prospect of landing anything over three meters big. I think the kid managed to crash his remote controlled airplane at the tender young age of five. Not that such memories are reliable once you become a Nobody, but he seemed to have some hazy recollection of his first real toy bursting into flames and the sudden onslaught of tears and five year old depression that followed.

Thankfully, this planet was sparse on trees and not nearly as densely foliaged as the previous one. I was scanning the horizon for some sort of cave or inlet that I could hide my ship in so as not to be a walking menu for all of my dragon meat eating friends. I eventually settled on a tiny bamboo huddle, which took on the appearance of a midget forest, and let the ship down right on the outskirts of the panda bear food.

I only hit five stalks on the way down. Don't laugh. It's better than you could do.

I stumbled out of the Heart Throb again, which seems to be a reoccurring pattern every time I land, and tried to regain my bearings so I wouldn't become an appetizer the minute I stepped out into open plains.

This land had a much more amiable atmosphere. Things were green, not grey. There were flowers in the distance, not wolves. The sky was blue, not black.

If I weren't so depressed, I may actually have been happy.

Wow. I'm an English teacher alright.

Regardless, I picked up a rather springy gait in response to my chipper surroundings. I vaguely remember Vexen saying he enjoyed vacationing here on occasions. Not that Organization members get vacation time, but once you become deadly enough you're accountable to just leave without notice and kill those who oppose you.

I readied my lovely sparkly pin wheels of fire, death, and destruction. They were going to be the untimely demise of some unexpecting foe, and I was eager to see who my candidates were for such an alluring criteria. I was beginning to drool at the prospect of totally demolishing a grandiose dragon breathing fire and sporting a wing span equivalent to that of Maleficient's.

However, irony has some sort of deranged attachment to me.

As I marched, but it was a happy march, through the small clustering of bamboo and flowers I literally tripped and found myself sputtering out dirt and gravel for the next five minutes. I whirled around on my knees trying to spot the cause of such a demoting action and expected it to be some intangible object incapable of actually posing a threat. I would have preferred it to be a deadly dragon of some kind, but that's not something you trip over.

"Hey, you watch where you're going you twiggy piece of spaghetti! I'm _walking_ here, incase you couldn't tell."

My gaze fell upon the creator of such an eccentric insult. It was an obnoxiously bright red lizard. A frickin lizard. I came here for a dragon and I get a lizard.

Gosh Larxene is probably having a field day.

"Spaghetti?" I repeated, arching an eyebrow. "Since when do I resemble spaghetti?"

"Well you're certainly skinny enough to be a noodle," the twerp noted, scanning my body proportions over, "and that hideous red hair of yours resembles tomato sauce frighteningly well. Now, ya see, _I_ know how to work the color of red. I have _mastered_ the color of red. Red _is_ my conquered color! Maybe you should try taking some notes."

A lizard on espresso. Interesting.

"I'm not _that_ skinny," I intelligently came back with, my mind devoid of better insults, at least ones that were sanitized enough for Disney characters.

"Man, you look like you're gonna break in half!"

I stood up to my full stature.

"Like you should be one commenting on size."

The lizard glared and stuck his forked tongue out at me.

"I could practically step on you," I remarked, contemplating if squashing this little minion would quench my desire for destruction. Though let us not forget I have a ridiculously hard time killing things that hold the ability to speak to me five seconds prior.

"I have a name you know," the nit wit spat out, quiet literally, and scampered over to my boot.

"Enlighten me," I requested.

"I go by the title of _Mushu_, guardian ancestor to the great and previous lady wooer to the faint of heart."

"Mushu?" I repeated incredulously.

"Ya man, you got a problem with that?"

"No," I admitted. "But did you really say guardian?"

"Yes indeed," the humble one affirmed, wagging his scaly little tale that reminded me all too much of the fish we had three nights ago at Xigbar's request. Demyx, the official cooking master mind of us all, had a simply lovely time cutting and gutting the previously requested fish while humming the melody line of 'Under The Sea.' Us Organization members tend to be a tad bit sadistic.

"Who, exactly, is it that you guard? Midgets?"

"No!" This so called Mushu reptile roared, or at least attempted to roar. "I guard the great Fa Mula---I mean, Ping! I guard the great Ping!"

These people need better names.

"Ping. Mushu guards Ping."

"You got that right!"

I sighed. "Can I please kill you now?"

Mushu's yellow eyes widened in apprehension. "You can't kill me man! I'm sacred!"

"And I'm dead," I muttered, "What's your point?"

I mentally winced when I realized I had just admitted to being nonhuman. I got a little too saucy at the prospect of killing him and forgot to be discreet. If he were dead, he could never repeat such information, but then again, I doubt I was going to be able to kill him given my pathetic tendencies to terminate things that don't posses the ability to communicate.

"Dead?" Mushu repeated. "You're kinda freakin' me out here."

"My apologies," I condoled, voice laden with satire.

Settling on the fact I was simply not manly enough to kill the stupid little bloody booger, I started to saunter past him, trying to maintain my haughty air but finding it rather difficult to do so when I knew I was backing down from a conquest.

"Hey, where you goin'?"

"I'm in the mood to kill something," I dead panned. Honesty is the best policy, after all. Just not when dealing with prospective significant others. The past time of murder has a tendency not to be that attractive. At least not with the females.

"You kill things?" Mushu inquired, following me. I could hear his little pattering feet behind me. Odd. I now had an entourage. Usually, upon hearing my blood lust, people tend to shy away from me.

"It's a past time," I offered off hand. "Sometimes a borderline addiction."

"Hey, you any good at pummeling people and stuff?"

Without a single word of warning, I whirled around and pinned Mushu against a nearby bamboo stalk with my left pinwheel. He stood there, suspended in air, clinging onto life by his measly little neck, sputtering and gasping and searching in vain for words that would never come. Eventually he opted to blow fire in my face. Or, at least, he _attempted_ to blow fire into my face. All that came out was a pitiful belch and a pathetic puff of rejected smoke.

Well Axel, I thought dryly to myself, here's you're fire breathing dragon.

"You need to work on that," I commented, much more arrogantly than normal, but I had special rights to that particular element. After all, fire is my forte.

"Spaghetti twig," Mushu coughed out, lower appendages flailing around wildly.

"Some guardian," I buffed. "I'm sure you'll do a lot of protecting hurtling insults."

I let the pip squeak drop to the ground and continued on my quest for deadly beasts rampaging villages and attacking small children.

"Well, help us then!" The lizard sputtered, chasing after me, which was quiet amusing considering I just threatened his life. He must know he couldn't do a very good job protecting on his own.

"You want me to help a lizard protect some teenage boy from the dangers of the wild?"

"Lizard?" Mushu shrieked. "Dragon. Dra-_gon_. I don't do that tongue thing."

Mushu stuck his tongue out for emphasis.

I blinked in slow comprehension. "No." I answered simply to Mushu, who was still preoccupied musing over his tongue. "Just...no."

"But why not?" the lizard—excuse me—_dragon_, persisted.

Even though I don't initially attack things that talk, some people just provoke me to end their life due to their constant persistency and hassling nature.

Demyx is one of these people.

However badly we're allowed to maim, break, damage, or otherwise inflict vast amount of bodily harm on other Organization members, we're never permitted to actually kill them. Not that the feat is all that easy in and of itself, but rest assured, there are ways. Where we go afterwards has never fully been determined, something that kept Roxas up at night and ever since he shared the perplexing thought with me now has committed me a faithful insomniac too, but they cease to prevail in their current shady form. The punishment for such a crime, if you could call it that, is exile and an eternity of torture, commonly known as becoming a test subject for Xemnas and his devious little experiments.

"Well what's in it for me?" I countered. "Hmm?"

Mushu stuttered and pawed the ground with the three towed foot.

"You'll get to kill things."

My head perked up. _Now_ I was interested.

"What kind of things? Evil diabolical dragons? Deadly Heartless?"

"No, other humans," Mushu answered simply.

Gah. I'm not too fond of killing humans. Curse my imaginary soul. Anti-human killing tendencies are what led Roxas and I together in the first place. We went on some extravagant mission with the infamous Vexen and man whore Xigbar (what Larxene saw in that guy I'll never know...and for those of you wondering, no, I am not jealous, I'm just commenting on Larxene's utter lack in taste of dead bachelors) which Xemnas sent us on to bring back hearts and whatnot for one of his other failed experiments. We were supposed to sabotage this naval base and capture all the hearts we could, which, of course, required the killing of the aforementioned soldiers occupying the aforementioned naval base. It was shortly after Roxas first joined us and our lovely group of the undead, so he was still rather new to the whole prospect of killing. That and he was rather preoccupied trying to figure out why he couldn't remember how he died, which kinda freaked us all out considering that's the only thing we all remember. Regardless, Vexen was prancing around causing mayhem in his wake and Xigbar was off in some dinning quarter terminating life as these sailors knew it, while Roxas and I tried to busy ourselves tormenting and teasing the terrified sailors. Every time we found one, we'd poke them for a little while, and then Roxas would ecstatically shout, "Give him to Xigbar, give him to Xigbar!" Too which I promptly picked the sailor up by their collar and threw them in the dining hall to meet their fate. Though neither of us ever admitted it, we were both aware we were just stalling for time until we could find Xigbar to finish off the deed.

It's hard to kill a guy who's whining, "Please! I have a wife and kids!"

However, Mushu was not whining such, and right now he looked like he'd make for some decent target practice.

"Humans?" I repeated, beginning to lose interest. I did not need to hear, 'please I have a wife and kids' hollered in another language.

"It's a war stupid," Mushu muttered. "What do you expect? Stop the water works are you're gonna upset Ping."

Oh great. That's all I needed. Some adolescent male sobbing like a baby.

"Besides," Mushu continued. "Shan Yu isn't really what I'd chose to classify as human. He's more of an evil, diabolical, take over the world villain. Wouldn't surprise me if he were one of those freaky Organization members..."

Mushu wasn't too bright.

"And what would make you draw that conclusion?"

"He kills. Lots of people. Lots of innocent people, I might add. From what I hear, those creepy black coat guys like to do the same thing in their free time."

"They only kill when they need hearts," I explained, a little too well informed for someone who supposingly wasn't themselves an Organization member. I ignored the fact that my previous statement wasn't entirely true, given the fact Luxord is known for periodically going out in search of prey for mere sport, but he doesn't really count. He'd probably kill us too if he wouldn't suffer eternally as a scientific subject under Xemnas' domain.

"You eat food, right?" I continued, looking at the rather mentally dense Mushu who did not realize I was dressed in the exact outfit he was previously describing.

"Well, yeah," Mushu admitted, playing with his tail and avoiding eye contact with my sudden interrogation.

"And what do you do when you're hungry?"

"I eat."

"Yes, I know that," I muttered rolling my eyes. Stupid mortals. "But _what_ do you eat?"

"Personally I like to have myself a nice piece of yummy chicken!"

"And how do you get that chicken?"

"Well, you kill it."

"Exactly. So you kill when you need food, right? Same thing goes for the Organization. They kill when they need food."

Except chickens don't scream, 'don't kill me, I have a wife and kids.' But it was close enough.

Mushu regarded me strangely. "Dude, you into cannibalism? 'Cuz I don't want no freaky guy thinking about eating my Ping."

I sighed. "No, I don't eat humans. Neither does the Organization. They just need hearts for survival, that's all."

Again, not entirely true. We need hearts so Xemnas doesn't kill us in one of his fits of rage. So I guess, in a way, that is survival.

"Well, I don't like the sounds of 'em. Killing people for their body parts like that..."

"You kill chickens for their thighs," I pointed out keenly. This whole defensive thing was really starting to get stretched. But of course, my super ego would never allow me to admit such, so I maintained a haughty persona as I foretold the correlation to my dense little dragon friend.

These are the lies I tell myself when I start to develop a guilt complex.

Needless to say, that complex has been developing for quiet a while.

I sometimes wonder if Xemnas screwed up when he recruited my Nobody as a member. Like he forgot to suck out all of my soul and left some parts still intact, just enough to keep me up at night and shy away from killing innocent people, but not enough to satisfy my constant nagging for blood lust and amazing pyrotechnics.

I mean, I'm still lonely.

I'm not supposed to feel that. I'm not supposed to feel anything.

"You're kinda freaky," Mushu commented, disrupting my philosophical thoughts, inspired by the one and only Roxas. They were always there in the back of my mind, but I never really took the time to dwell on them of vocalize such until I met that little brat. Like I said, I'm an emotional vault. I'm quiet good and hiding things. Except from Larxene. And Roxas. Jerks.

"Thank you," I replied. "And you're kind of pathetic."

Mushu attempted to blow fire on me again. I received another belch.

"You better stop doing that or I'm going to suffer lung cancer from second hand smoke."

I started to turn away, for the second time, but once again Mushu persisted.

"Hey man, you gonna help me and Ping stop this monster or what?"

I really didn't want to get caught up in a war. I wanted to find a girlfriend. Hanging out with a bunch of smelly guys didn't seem all that appealing. Then again, I would get to kill things, well—technically thing, which seemed to be slightly appealing.

"You said he kills innocent people." I said the former in a statement, for I already knew that was exactly what Mushu had said, otherwise I wouldn't be contemplating it, but I had to be sure. Call me obsessive compulsive.

"Ohhh yeah," Mushu drawled out.

"Well then he deserves to die," I stated simply.

I paused for a moment, trying to increase the dramatic effect. It didn't work to well, and I concluded that it's probably best to leave the dramatics to Demyx and Zexion.

"Okay. I'm in."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

This seems like a good stopping point. I realize all I really accomplished was one conversation held between Mushu and our beloved Axel, but I stuck a lot of side comments in concerning the Organization. These aforementioned side comments turned out to be side paragraphs, thus the chapter started to pick up length. I have a marvelous idea for Axel's encounter with Ping. It shall be absolutely hilarious. (Grins deviously) Mwa ha ha. I already wrote half of it. Expect and update soon. Wee.

Oh, and as a side note concerning the updating: I'm going to be leaving for another hospital visit soon. I'm going down to either Johns Hopkins or the Mayo Clinic (hasn't been decided which one yet...either way I'll get to fly on a plane...WEE) so the doctors can figure out what the heck is wrong with me. So now I get to go to Arizona and/or Baltimore. I shall be admitted for at least ten days, maybe more. I'll leave notice before I go, or at least try too. Hopefully I'll get some answers.

Well, read and review! They make my day!


	5. Land Of Dragons Part Two

Hola. I have returned, soon, as promised. Hopefully this chapter will be as funny as promised, too. Ahh well, I won't hold you from Axel any longer. I'll leave all my side comments for the end. (Hands Constance Greene and Hope a humongous cookie of happiness for their multi paragraph reviews.)

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"So when do I get to kill things?"

"Yo man, calm down. You gotta join the army first. Then you train. Then you kill things."

"I don't need to train," I grumbled, in my patented arrogant fashion. "I'm already good."

"Yea, I know," Mushu muttered, touching his neck involuntarily.

Mushu was leading me through the bamboo forest so I could meet this highly esteemed Ping of his, something I wasn't anticipating too much, I must say. This whole endeavor was not helping my cause any, but it would satisfy my blood lust. So I guess it was time well spent.

"Ping should be right over here," Mushu directed, scampering ahead. I rolled my eyes in anticipation.

Ping did a half way decent job of setting up camp, since I already knew full well Mushu was incapable of doing such a thing or in aiding in any way. There was a measly little fire and a pitched tent in the clearing, overlooking a rather impressive mountainside full of tents and various battle apparatus used to beat the crap out of people.

There probably is a more poetic way to say that, but I don't feel like exerting the literary effort.

"Ping?" Mushu called out, peering around trees and under rocks. Again, I say Mushu is not too bright. "Ping? You here buddy? I've got company! We've got ourselves our very own, one of a kind, butt kicking, head smashing, pyromaniac!"

Now there's a pick up line if I ever heard one.

"Mushu! I'm not decent! I haven't done my hair yet!" A strangely feminine voice could be heard from inside the tent, and a lot of rustling and pattering followed.

Now I don't know about you, but the last time I checked, guys don't worry about their hair. Unless, of course, your Zexion. Then you worry about your hair, you just don't admit it. Because it's simply unmanly. At least it is if you're a killer. I just can't picture Jack The Ripper asking his victims if his hair was alright before hashing them to pieces.

"Ping!" Mushu hissed. "I said we have company! _Male_ company!"

Thank God somebody got my gender right.

There was a startled gulp originating from inside the make shift tent. Suddenly, a clearing of a throat could be heard, and out came a very gruff, deep, "I'll be there in a second." The former didn't come out in a testosterone filled voice, it sounded more like Demyx recovering from laryngitis. Slightly feminine, yet trying desperately to be manly. The result is a hallowed out echo that sounds like you're bellowing rather than speaking.

This Ping had some serious issues.

"You hold on just a sec," Mushu ordered, and I watched him disappear into the tent. Either they needed a private discussion, or Ping was having trouble getting dressed. Neither was very comforting.

In a couple minutes, the two emerged and I finally got to meet this much talked about person that was going to be under my secret guard for the next couple days. Ping was surprisingly short, almost the height of what Roxas was...I mean, is...I keep forgetting he's not dead...well, he _was_ dead...but anyway...and Ping didn't exactly swagger right. Most people have their own personalized walks. I tend to saunter. Xigbar has a more slithery quality. Lexaeus is in the habit of stomping. Demyx prances. But Ping...Ping looked like he had trouble staying on his feet, let alone maneuvering. Even feminine men (cough cough certain sitar players) can manage to walk without falling. Ping stumbled over to me and looked up to meet my slightly skeptical gaze. I was taken aback by what defined eyes Ping had.

OH HOLY HELL. I did not just say that. I did not just notice Ping's eyes. No, I did not. Stop saying I did.

_Anyway_, Ping stood there, awkwardly, gawking up at me and my flaming red hair, and tried to puff out his chest and appear intimidating. It was more tragic than comical.

"Nice to meet you sir," Ping bellowed out. I had to close my eyes due to the gust of air that came hurtling out of his mouth. I thought only theater students projected their voice. You talk from your voice box, not your diaphragm.

"Nice to meet you...Ping..." I replied, shaking his remarkably smooth hand in response. It was rather soothing, and reminded me a lot of satin and—

SWEET MOTHER OF MARY. I did not just take a mental note of the guy's hands! When's the last time I noticed the skin quality of Luxord's hand, or Zexion's hand? Not even Marluxia's hands catch my attention, and we all know he exfoliates his skin twice a day and once after meals. Heck, Larxie doesn't even have note worthy hands and she's a frickin female.

I'm disturbed.

I plastered on a fake grin, trying my best not to blush due to the outrageous nature of the thoughts traveling through my mind, and shook Ping's hand a lot harder than I should have.

"So you live around here?" I blurted, desperate for small talk and pleasantries for the first time in my life. Anything to keep my mind from wandering.

What if Larxene was watching now? Can she tell I'm nervous and hiding something? Can she read my mind through my facial expressions? Is my body language giving me away?

"Yes sir!" Ping confirmed, trying to attempt the manly pat on the back. It felt like a mosquito bit me. Ping was surprisingly weak. Then again maybe I'm just incredibly strong.

"Wow," I wittily remarked in reply. For the first time in my life, I was rendered speechless. Holy crap.

Mushu wandered over to us and craned his neck to meet our faces. "You two are as awkward as two preteens on their first date!"

Mushu received a deadly glare in response from Ping, and I was overcome by embarrassment concerning the mental image of being on a date with another man. Hopefully Larxene was still back at Castle Oblivion nursing her broken nose and not listening in. Either that or she was back at Belle's castle tormenting the household objects. I thought I saw a talking candle stick she could have had a lot fun with. As long as she wasn't here. Anywhere but here.

"Ew," I responded, trying to cover up the fact my mind was racing a thousand miles a minute.

Mushu sensed the tension in the following silence and characteristically decided to bombard us with another one of his voluminous declarations.

"Well, you two should get some rest. It's a big day for your guys tomorrow. You get to register for training camp. Then you can become certified to kick some bad guy butt!"

_I_ didn't need to be certified. I already knew I could do that. But Ping here...well, Ping looked like he had trouble walking in a straight line.

I sulked off to a second make shift tent Mushu had hastily set up, very upset by my previous mental heedings of Ping's physical form. Everyone already doubted I was straight. I didn't need to doubt it too. I opened the door and began to crawl inside, beginning to question the sanity of this Ping person I so spontaneously found myself with.

Mushu meandered over to me right as I was about to shut the door for the night, assuming the ship would be safe where I had placed it. Not like it was my ship or anything. But I didn't want to depend on Larxene to come rescue me if I lost my only mode of transportation.

"So, whatdya think of Ping?" Mushu asked off hand. "Think he'll be a good fighter?"

I shrugged avoiding eye contact. "I guess so, if you're sure Ping is really a he..."

Mushu responded with an even deadlier glare than the one he received from Ping earlier.

"Um, excuse me mister, but he ain't the one wearing make up."

I sighed through clenched teeth.

"It's _war paint_," I insisted emphatically. "Now get lost before I burn you."

Mushu, given our previous experience with my handy dandy pin wheel of death, made himself scarce in a matter of seconds, and I was free to finally get to bed. But I didn't do so before noticing Ping's rather curvy silhouette inside his tent from beside mine. He had a distinctively cute up turned nose.

Oh crap.

I did it again.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I never realized how much I had taken Demyx's breakfasts for granted. I missed not waking up to the smell of pancakes and syrup in the morning. The kid may be freaky as all hell but he sure could get his groove on in the kitchen. Usually, of course, this involved singing of some sort, which worked more effectively than most of our alarm clocks. But the prospect of food made us all forgive his off key renditions of show tunes and we allowed him to live. Though Larxene did threaten his life a couple times.

Today however, today was a different story. I would have killed do have a nice dish of pancakes (that didn't sing, mind you) or at the very least a hot baked potato as opposed to this ridiculous rice patty thing that Ping had set up before we headed off. Not to mention I was forced to eat the ladder with friggin chop sticks, something that I'm not too skilled at doing, by the way. I don't know where Ping picked up the delicacy required to tackle such a feat, and rest assured I firmly believe only Marluxia is dainty enough to master this chop sticking phenomena. Though I am probably being sexist, seeing as though Mushu had no trouble digesting his meal with two wooden sticks. I'm just humiliated I'm incapable of matching the gender confused Ping when it came to dining abilities.

Meals are not a high point of this trip so far.

"You need to flex your wrist more," Ping tried to instruct from across the fire.

"Not all wrists bend like that," I muttered, wondering if somehow all Chinese were double jointed.

"Yes they do," Mushu insisted, rice spraying everywhere from the corners of his narrow mouth. "You just stink at it."

"Go die."

"I can't die, I'm immortal. You die."

"I can't. I'm already dead."

"Guys guys guys!" Ping hollered, waving his arms around wildly. "Why can't we all just be friends?"

I stopped my banter mid way and stared directly at Ping, mouth slightly ajar. I have never heard any person of the male persuasion say, 'stop fighting so we can all be friends.' If we were back at Castle Oblivion, there would be a horde of black cloaked beings surrounding the red dragon and me chanting, 'fight fight fight fight!'

"Yea man, we supposed to be a team, you and me!"

I rolled my eyes and sighed. I really needed to kill something.

"Um, by the way," Ping began, putting a finger to his lip in a rather feminine manner. "Did you just say you were dead?"

"Metaphorically," I answered simply, already having an excuse at hand relied on when dealing previously with Belle.

Ping paused momentarily. "Wait, how can you be metaphorically dead...?"

"I think it's time we're on our way!" I shouted out, bursting upright and disposing of my stupid inedible rice patty on top of Mushu's head.

Ping stopped for a moment, but then seeing no other reason why we should delay, quickly packed up the left overs and tagged along behind me, and small red lizard screaming foreign profanities in tow.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

I never realized how girly most of the Organization really was until I spent a couple days with real, live men training for war on the plains of China. The only ones I could see making a permanent residence here and maintaining any sort of pride were Xigbar, Xaldin, Luxord, and possibly Lexaeus.

All the rest would have fainted due to the heat.

Of course, when you're donning a black coat, heat exhaustion isn't exactly avoidable.

I must give credit where credit is deserved, however, and while Zexion may not hold a candle to any of these brutes physically, he was far more intelligent than any of these metal pumping, steroid chomping, tobacco chewing cro-magna men could ever hope to be. There was one man who maintained a much higher air of dignity, and he had the honor of being the captain. To put in bluntly, he thought we all sucked and wasn't shy about informing us of his opinion. Ping looked like he was ready to cry when this information was so harshly foretold to us. My protectee seemed to be a little hyper sensitive, not to mention he was more preoccupied with staring at captain Li Shang's body than what captain Li Shang's body was actually doing.

And Larxene thought I was gay.

Half way through the day, after we all received the obligatory orientation session (this is where the bathroom is...this is where the meal tent is...this is where the rope course is...) we got our first real 'task' for the camp. I suppose Li Shang was trying to weed out the weak by challenging all of us to climb this ridiculously tall wooden pole and retrieve some stupid arrow that was sticking out of the top of the thing. Quiet frankly I saw no point in the exercise. If some idiot could put it up there, that same idiot could take it back down. Why we had to pay for some moron's carelessness in leaving that god forsaken arrow up there I'll never know.

"I don't understand," I grumbled as Shang finished demonstrating.

"You have to get the arrow to prove your worth," Ping explained patiently in a voice just above a whisper. He seemed to be struggling with maintaining that manly bellowing quality when speaking in lower volumes.

"But why is the arrow up there in the first place?"

"Shang probably put it up there."

"Well then why don't we make Shang get it down?"

Ping's eyes widened at the pure ludicrous nature of my proposal.

"What?" I asked innocently.

I asked innocently a little too loudly. Li Shang was up and in my face about three seconds afterwards.

"Who spoke out of turn?" he demanded in a truly manly bellowing voice, the kind that Ping was trying in vain to aspire too.

Now, don't get me wrong, I respect this guy's absence of swearing, smoking, and lack of primitive maleness in general, but he was way too anal about senseless crap that really just didn't matter.

"It was me," I offered, since I was the only one in the line up who was literally not trembling in fright. I never understood why humans fear each other so much. It's not like one has advantage over the other. Maybe size, sure. But one can just make up for that intellectually (Belle...case in point.) What people should really spend their time fearing is not some big scary man with a loud voice and an anal retentive disorder, they should be fearing some totally freaky undead pyromaniac who has no heart or soul to speak of and has an intense desire to kill something right about now.

Mortals need to resort their priorities.

"Did you have something you'd like to share with us sir?"

I paused and blinked a couple of times in response. I vaguely recalled this tactic being used on me in elementary school, though I can't seem to recall my response.

"Um, yeah actually," I admitted bluntly, much to the horror and gasps of the crowd. Insert unscripted murmuring here.

Li Shang's brow furrowed, for he probably wasn't expecting such a reply.

"You are...permitted to speak..." he responded guardedly.

"Good," came my retort, which provoked Ping to flinch involuntarily at my audaciousness. "Why are we doing this?"

My bluntness knows no bounds.

"Doing...what?" Shang questioned slowly.

"This," I said, indicated the task at hand by pointing. "This whole climbing thingie. Don't you think it would be a little more productive to, say, actually work on...oh I don't know..." I feigned searching for the right words even though I had them planned out three seconds ahead of time "..._fighting_ or something?"

Shang glared daggers at me. "We do this exercise for honor."

I met the captain's stony gaze with my own.

"Really? I think we'd probably do it better for money."

It was at this point Shang's complexion decided to turn a very interesting shade of purple.

I could have sworn I heard somebody in the back line stifle a laugh. At least I'm good for something.

Ping, on the other hand, was gulping and nervously gnawing at his lower lip, which made him look strangely cute...

GAH CONFOUND IT. I did it again.

Shang told me to meet him in his tent afterwards to discuss my 'punishment.' Ha, right, like that would ever happen. I plan on happily making my way to the mesh tent, thank you very much, where I can hopefully enjoy a meal that doesn't dance or require chop sticks.

"Now, moving on," Shang continued, glaring directly at me. "You will be required to carry these two golden discs up with you when climbing to retrieve the arrow. One represents honor," more glares "and the other represents dignity."

Bah. Stupid philosophical crap. I just wanted to kill something. I didn't sign up for a yoga class. I was expecting some violence.

Li Shang then called names, one by one, to come up and attempt the stunt. I watched in amusement as every sorry bum who tried such stifled under the weight of the discs and didn't make it more than half way up before falling and plummeting down to the ground on their butt. I have a sadistic sort of humor.

Eventually Shang made his way down to my end of the line, and right when I was on deck he turned to Ping and I while the person in front of me was trying to climb, and failing miserably. The captain seemed to be studying the two of us longer than what is usually considered normal, and it was making me a tad bit uneasy. Ping kept staring at the ground and picking his nails...which were oddly well kept, by the way...and at one point even went up to play with his hair but, upon realizing it was all tied up in a bun, had to resort to picking at the hem of his uniform.

"Is one of you female?" Li Shang finally inquired.

My eyes bulged at the mere absurdity. Ping, being female? Sure, he was a little fruity, but why would any girl want to join the army with a bunch of sweaty smelly guys?

Ping's face paled immediately after the question was posed, and for a moment it looked like passing out was a plausible option.

I tried to work something in my mind in Ping's defense, since I knew how hard he took almost all negative comments, and finally settled on a three week old come back I had last used against Larxene while in the midst of applying my war paint.

"Axel, are you a woman?"

The air caught in my throat. "Excuse me?"

Li Shang closed his eyes in frustration. "I asked if you were a woman."

"I...wait, _what_!"

Ping looked about as shocked as I was.

"Yes or no. I don't have all day."

"I thought you were talking to...I thought you meant...How come you think..."

I was at a loss for words at the second time in my life.

"He's my brother, sir," Ping offered, trying to bale me out. I guess my gender would be more convincing with alibis.

How many people require alibis for their gender?

"I'm a frickin' guy!" I exploded, my manhood now insulted and my pride diminished to nothing. "I have testosterone leaking out of every pore in my body!" I never thought the day would come when I would repeat part of Belle's soliloquy. "I am _not_ a girl!"

Shang's gaze shifted between mine and Ping's.

"You sure about that?"

"Sure about it? Of course I'm sure about it! I would think I'd know what sex I am!"

"Well you look a little confused to me."

I could have sworn I heard a particular little red lizard buff "A little?" from inside Ping's pants pocket but I wasn't sure, and murder wasn't exactly an option.

I have here by determined, even though I am an emotional vault, there are undeniably two things that set me off almost spontaneously. One, degrading Roxas in any way, shape, or form. _I'm_ the only one allowed to do that. Also, making any crude comments alluding to the fact that Roxas and I shared anything more than a pure, healthy, heterosexual relationship could piss me off quiet easily. Second, poking fun at my manhood was not kindly tolerated. Larxene is lucky the _only_ thing I did was break her nose.

Shang must have considered my outburst satisfying, for he turned around and walked away post temper tantrum. A part of me wondered if he did that simply to get back at me for my previous spectacle concerning the lack of point in our training exercise.

But then again, a part of me wondered if he did it because he was genuinely confused.

Neither was my cup of Prozac.

Eventually, all eyes were on me as I was forced to approach the wooden pole due to sadistic process of elimination. Climbing was never my forte. Roxas was actually pretty decent at it, if I recall correctly, but that was only because he weighed, like, ninety pounds. Nobody else in the Organization could make it three feet off the ground unless they had the aide of a gummi ship. So ever since the brat's departure, the entire Organization now officially sucked at tree climbing. But we could still kill things pretty well.

I passed a smirking Li Shang—curse him—and tried in vain to think of someway to conquer this ridiculous task that wouldn't end in my tail bone breaking. Funny how even though we are indisputably dead, we can still sustain injury if we're hit hard enough. It's killing us that's the problem.

I bent over to pick up the two massive golden discs. I wasn't aware the concepts of dignity and honor were tangible objects. But then again, this wouldn't be the first time I was wrong (it may be the first time I admit it, however.)

To say they were heavy would be the understatement of the year, next only to saying that Demyx is feminine. It was like there were a million bowling balls liquefied and stuffed into the contents of the discs. I for one have never bowled, but I hear Lexaeus does on occasions. Regardless, him aside, I doubt anyone could manage to lift these confounded character building pieces of crap.

That added to the fact that I'm apparently as skinny as spaghetti and look like I'm going to break in half. Mushu must be laughing his stupid red, sun burnt butt off.

I opted to strap the twin discs on my back and attempt to mount the pillar monkey style. It's not like I had a vast array of options. Right as I began to climb, a rather novel thought struck my mind.

Last time I checked, wood was combustible.

Hmmm.

"Axel, why are you dismounting so soon?" Li Shang demanded as I let go of the pole and started to back away from the arrow holding piece of wood.

"Cuz I don't want to get burned," I muttered, not really expecting Li Shang to understand, and abruptly deciding I didn't care if he did.

I began to summon a small yet ample flame in the palm of my outstretched right hand. Right as it began to grow to the volume and intensity that I so desired, I drew back my arm and threw the now significantly bright ball of destruction through the air and into the lower half of the flammable wooden post.

Li Shang did not appreciate this.

"What are you doing?" he hollered in a deep, I suppose intimidating, voice. I looked at him not out of fear, just out of acknowledgment.

"Burning things," I answered simply, with a slight smile on my face. I derive great pleasure out of setting things on fire. I guess I'm making up for the 23 years of my mortal existence where I wasn't allowed to.

"You can't do that!" Shang continued to bellow, eyes bulging at my absurd approach to obtaining the arrow.

"Why not?"

"Because...it's against the rules!"

I blinked a couple times very calmly while the post to my right started to smolder and smoke.

"You're joking right?"

It was amusing watching Shang grow more irate by the second. Though for a minute, Ping looked like he was having trouble deciding which was hotter, the burning post or the provoked captain.

I chose not to dwell on such disturbing things.

"Put it out!" the captain hollered to his immovable team of terrified soldiers. Not one made a move to execute the action. They all seemed too intimidated by the man's brazen talent for straining his vocal chords. It didn't phase me in the least. This guy had _nothing_ compared to Larxene.

Eventually some genius decided maybe the best way to stop the yelling was to listen. Next thing I knew some pudgy soldier with some massive facial hair and a rather unpleasant aroma marched up to the front of the line and cut in front of me and my amazing pyrotechnics. Before I was even aware of what was going on, the personified watermelon had dropped down his pants and began to expertly piddle the fire out with his human hose. I stood there in shock (and trauma) as the rolly polly individual turned to me after his deed was done and my amazing sparks had fizzled to nothing.

"Hi," the pudgy one spat out. "I'm Yao." He offered his hand for a formal hand shake but I politely declined the invitation for obvious reasons.

This is what I mean by irritating raw manliness. Even the steroid infused Xigbar probably wouldn't piss a fire out.

"How come he's allowed to pee in public and I can't burn things?" I muttered staring directly at Shang, whose mouth had hit the floor and his collection of pearly white molars were on vivid display. Ping had actually gone so far as to shut his eyes, which confused me. I found the former presentation disgusting, but it's not like the anatomy was foreign to me, or any person of the male gender for that matter. I wondered if Ping tinkled with his eyes shut.

Yao actually had the audaciousness to bow before his audience, and then calmly waddled back to his former position at the end of the line.

Shang, ignoring my previously posed, well thought out question, turned to me and said, "Now try again."

I scrunched my ski slope nose up in disgust. I really had no desire to touch the same wood Yao's body excretes had touched. I supposed I could attempt to avoid it, but that would make climbing up exceedingly more difficult.

As was predicted, my attempt upwards toward the arrow was a miserable disaster. I could not avoid mounting the base of the pole with two discs on my back and still have enough stamina to reach the top. I followed suit and plummeted to the ground just like every man before me so poetically did. Head hung low in defeat, I avoided eye contact and took my place next to Ping.

I slouched once I was back in line and tried to avoid the stares of a haughtily beaming Li Shang, who took great pride in my failure.

"I could have done it if he let me do it my way," I grumbled perturbed.

Ping eyed me warily. "Where did you learn to produce fire?"

I paused. In retrospect, I probably should have refrained from such a flashy show of my undead powers. As usual, I always have twenty/twenty hindsight.

"Black arts," I coughed up. "Ancient Chinese magic...it's some pretty wicked stuff..." I chose to elaborate to make myself more convincing but Ping didn't seem completely swayed, which was odd because I knew for a fact any other man in this vicinity would have considered that answer substantial.

Either Ping was very intelligent or, given my previous experiences with the intellectual female gender, very feminine.

I chose to go with the former as opposed to the latter.

Li Shang seemed to disregard Ping, or simply forget about him, for he announced the end of the training session with much dismay, but much to our pleasure.

"I wonder what we'll do tomorrow," I buffed off hand, my voice saturated with sarcastic humor. "Learn the importance of building sand castles?"

"That would teach patience," Ping observed.

I dead panned. "I was kidding."

I let the conversation drop, thought not before debating on whether or not I should notify the captain as to his exclusion of Ping, since Lord know the kid's to shy to speak up for himself. Though he could probably get the stupid little demon pet of his to say a few choice words concerning the matter...followed immediately by a dinky belch of smoke to finish the effect.

Even though Shang had made it pretty clear I was supposed to get some form of punishment dealing with the previous affairs, I opted to boldly join the rest of the crew in the mesh tent for food instead of victimizing myself to be another receiver of the captain's severe anal retentive disorder.

As I began to saunter off with Ping and the rest of the mannerly challenged group of disgruntled heroes, I nervously turned to my temporary comrade and posed the question that had been nagging at my mind ever since the grand tour of the vast collection of tents inhabitating the area.

"So...your rice doesn't, like, randomly burst out into song, does it?"

Ping gave me a very condescending look, something I don't particularly appreciate too much, especially when inquiring about a matter that actually had me somewhat worried.

To get back at him, I chose to pose another question

"So Ping, do you have a girlfriend?"

Ping ran away blushing.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AN: I'm going to have to make this section a three part chapter. Originally I was aiming for two, but I'm either too long winded or there's too much information for me to cover in a measly one chapter. I'm equally elated about the upcoming chapter (I have started that one too) and plan on coughing that one up rather soon. (Still no word as to when I'm leaving for the hospital, so until further notice, I'm going to keep cranking out stories. Rest assured, there will be much writing done on the plane.)

While browsing over my stats, I was quite alarmed to see that this story had already received over one thousand hits. I responded by screaming for joy and scaring half my family. Upon doing a happy dance, I sat back down and browsed over the rest of my stats. (Hands cookies out to the thirty three people who have previously left reviews.) I shall entice my readers to leave reviews by big chocolate chip cookies. Or macadamia nut. Or peanut butter. You can specify which you would like to be given, if you really want. Don't be shy! Leave reviews! Tell me what you think! One of the reviews I personally found the most amusing was Koiree's one word response: KEWL. It made me giggle. So let me know what's going through all of your heads. If you want to make a suggestion for future chapters, if you want me to read one of your stories, if you want me to kill a certain character off...just lemme know. I'll give you a cookie.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! (Gives a welcome hug to Milante for joining the review board, Hope a bag of multiple cookies for her response, and gives Constance Greene yet another _giant_ cookie for long review and thanks her for stalking me and my stories.) As far as the quote 'Got It Memorized' is concerned...I think I could have something planned for that (heehee.)


	6. Land Of Dragons Part Three

I return, bearing cookies of a large assortment for all of my dedicated reviewers. I shall hand them out in the end, for I do not want to have anyone dying on my account due to severe withdrawal of Axel.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Attempting intelligent conversation with a bunch of brazenly masculine individuals was never one of my expertise. I guess I'm too used to conversing with Marluxia. Regardless, conversations held back at Castle Oblivion differed greatly from the one that was being held right now.

"I bet I can spit farther than you," a rather porky individual that I believe went by the name Chien-Po declared.

A lanky malnourished fellow who I had over heard some people calling Ling shook his head dramatically. "Nu-uh! I could totally spit farther than you!"

I really saw no redeeming value in participating in this debate. For the first time in my life, I actually opted to sit back and listen.

Of course, even listening to such after a few tedious minutes got rather irritating. Eventually I decided to simply tune out and pretend I was back at the castle discussing world domination with my horde of diabolical undead family.

The thirteen...or, twelve...of us would sit around the table, in total demonic Brady Bunch fashion, and discuss the most random things imaginable, yet they required somewhat more intelligence to comprehend than the previous saliva debate.

"Dinner is se—rved!" Demyx sang out, bursting through the kitchen door and into the dinning quarter.

"For the love of God," Lexaeus muttered. "Someone please shut that boy up."

"I would, but I'm off the clock," Marluxia murmured, examining his exfoliated hands.

I can remember pleasantly reminding the crew that Demyx was, indeed, the only one half decent in cooking. "Unless you want to eat something half charred," I looked directly at my favorite Savage Nymph, "Then I suggest you let him sing."

Larxene chose now to poetically hurtle her butter knife across the table and directly at my face.

I responded by expertly dodging the incoming obstacle, which may have not been the best idea considering the aforementioned eating utensil stabbed an unexpecting Saix right in the hip as he walked behind me to his seat in his usual gravity defying strut.

He muttered something about Larxene being a bug face, I suppose in reference to those two antennae like whiskers she's got popping out of her head, and continued to swagger on to his designated seat at the end of the table.

"I made a delicious chicken marinara sautéed in a nice garlic sauce," Demyx began, placing the entrée in front of twenty two lusting eyes. Even though we're dead, we seem to maintain a ridiculous appetite, another flaw I'm sure Xemnas would have altered if he could go back and recruit us all once again.

Zexion seemed to almost pout once the chicken was set on display.

"Demyx," Zexion muttered, barely audible, "I can't eat that."

"Yes you can," Xigbar spat out between mouthfuls as he hungrily devoured an entire chicken thigh in approximately three bites. "You just bite, chew, and swallow."

"Well, yes, physically I can eat it," the purple haired albino agreed. "But emotionally I just can't."

I quirked an eyebrow as I politely cut my given piece of chicken into eight even pieces. Even though manners were not required among the dead, I preferred to maintain a certain air of dignity, unlike cave man Xigbar over there. Right now he was licking the remains off his fingers, making disgusting smacking noises all the while.

"Emotionally?" I questioned, taking a sip of water. "You're eating the chicken, not dating it."

Zexion's face seemed to darken momentarily. "I just don't see how you cannibalistic creeps can justify devouring a poor defenseless animal like that. This was a living being once. This chicken probably had a family...he doesn't deserve to meet his demise for our mere canine pleasure."

I looked quizzically at my comrade over the rim of my glass.

"Zexion," I began slowly. "Remember what you do for a living."

"Well, people are different," Zexion insisted. "People are pathetic jerks. They deserve to die. This chicken never hurt anyone."

At this precise moment Demyx reemerged from the kitchen, carrying a whopping bowl of salad, probably to appease the picky preferences of our rather peculiar comrade.

"And for yooouuu," Demyx drawled out, sounding almost as if he were yodeling, "I prepared a fresh house salad, complete with a large assortment of hearty vegetables and crisp carrots picked straight from my garden."

"Dude, you have a garden?" Lexaeus asked in a deep, gruff voice.

Demyx ignored the question.

"Here you go Zexy," the sitar player cooed affectionately, placing the salad in front of the boy. Demyx had tried to give us all cute little nick names like that, but the majority of us profoundly refused to answer to such, except obviously for Zexion—or should I say, Zexy—so Demyx gave up on the infatuation after living three days in solitary. "I know how you're strictly a vegetarian. How could I possibly forget?"

"How could _any_ of us possibly forget?" Vexen snapped, looking over the top of his current novel of choice. He always insisted on reading at the dinner table. "He whines about it like a baby every night at this hour."

"He's just a sensitive soul," Demyx offered, patting a rather mortally wounded Zexion on his wimpy back. "You should be accepting of other people's differences."

"He doesn't _have_ a soul," Larxene pointed out in her patented bitter like fashion.

"Well, he used to," Demyx finished, rushed. "Now, where shall I place my butt cheeks?"

I eyed Demyx as he circled the table like a hawk, waiting for someone to offer him a seat. When no one did, he pulled up his own chair and decided where he should make room for himself.

Please don't sit next to me. Please don't sit next to me. Please don't sit next to me.

Crap. He sat next to me.

"Hi Axel!" he chirped.

"...hi...Demyx..." I choked out, feigning enthusiasm.

I could have sworn I saw Larxene stifling a smirk behind her gloved hand. I noticed she kept leaning dangerously close to Xigbar, in all of his brutal nature, and I hadn't seen her right hand make an appearance all night.

Oh good heavens. Were they actually holding hands under the table?

Somebody gag me with a spoon.

"I killed someone today," Luxord brought up spur of the moment, so nonchalant it was almost as if he were discussing something as trivial as the weather or what color socks he was wearing.

"Was it bloody?" Lexeaus inquired.

"No, I strangled them. I just washed my cloak, I didn't want to get it dirty."

"That's what Clorox Bleach is for," Demyx chirped happily, a little out of place with such a melancholy choice of discussion.

"I almost got his friend, too, but that stupid little brat climbed up into a confounded tree," Luxord continued to grumble.

"Ah, you'd have to get Roxas for that one," Xaldin offered, smirking.

The room immediately fell silent.

All eyes turned to me. I suppose it was their awkward attempt at pity, since we are no longer capable of exuding the actual emotion.

I don't think Xaldin meant it maliciously. For as intimidating as his lances and side burns are, he mostly is like a giant teddy bear. I could picture him someday spawning a little child and reading them bed time stories before bed. But regardless of the supplier of this comment, I became upset none the less.

I guess such discontent must have been highly evident in my facial features, because even Demyx was astute enough to pick up on it. He gently put his arm around my shoulders.

"It's okay Axel," he murmured softly. "It's better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all. Physically Roxas may be gone, but he will always be with you in your heart."

"Don't touch me," I snarled, wrenching my upper torso away from his. I slammed my glass down on the table and kicked my chair backward, supplying everyone's ears with the irritating scratching sound as the metal legs grinded against the cold, stone floor. I got up to leave but at that moment Xemnas waltzed in, and I was forced to resume my seat so we could further discuss plans for world domination.

A big wet blob landing directly on my face brought me back to reality as the memory of Castle Oblivion fizzled away before my very eyes.

"Whoops, I missed," Ling squeaked as I slowly opened my eyes after the bombardment of bodily fluids.

"Hey, you're that fire guy, right?" Chien Po asked, leaning over the table. It seemed to bend with his weight.

"I suppose you could refer to me as that," I acknowledged, poking at my rice bowl with my confounded chopsticks. I was beginning to think I would never get a decent meal.

"Can I give you a hug?" the fat one abruptly questioned.

My eyes bulged in response. "Uhh..._no_," came my assertive reply.

"You were really funny up there," Ling squeaked, shoving rice into his mouth like it was some kind of garbage disposal. The man had a high metabolism if nothing else. "Even though none of us will admit it. We're not supposed to find humor in such shameful activities."

"So lighting things on fire is shameful now, huh?" I inquired patronizingly, making another sad attempt to get the rice to travel from the bowl to my mouth. I swear, at this rate, I was going to start losing weight. Maybe that was why Ling was so skinny.

"Well, not really. But respecting your elders is."

"Li Shang is not my elder," I insisted, jabbing my bowl this time out of pent up aggression. I succeeded in spraying rice all over the place. I've been dead _way_ longer than Shang.

"But he's of higher authority," Ling continued, happily munching away and chewing with his mouth open. Even Xigbar made an attempt to close his lower mandible on occasions.

"So?" I persisted. "Just because he's of higher authority he can't be wrong?"

I mean, everyone knew that Xemnas was a total loon. But then again he's who brought us back (not that some of us wouldn't have minded staying dead) and if we didn't go along with his insane, psychotic will, we were doomed as test subjects forever more...a fate much worse then any realm or variation of death.

It reality, the situation kinda sucked.

"I..." Ling opened his gaping mouth to say something in his boy-who-just-hit-puberty voice, but couldn't think of any words to fill in the gap of stupefied silence that followed.

"It doesn't matter if he's right or wrong, it's still shameful to your family."

The entire table's attention turned to Ping, who had been mysteriously quiet this entire time. Even now, he muttered the aforementioned in such a low tone it was barely detectable to the ears.

I almost spat out, 'What family?' but stopped myself, for that would invite a whole slew of not so pleasant questions.

"You would rather sit and eat it from an anal retentive moron so you don't offend your non present family than stick up for yourself?" I settled on blurting, probably after not as much consideration as I should have taken in saying such.

"I care more for my family than myself," Ping responded, looking me straight in the eye for the first time since I met him.

Looks like I succeeded in hitting a nerve.

"Well good for you," I responded, attacking my rice again. _We'll see if you're saying the same thing once you're dead._

"You fleshy human people are lucky," I thought I heard a particular lizard voice say from inside Ping's pocket. "Once you're parents depart from this world, they leave you alone. Mine are _still_ bothering me!"

It was at this moment Ping smacked himself in the pant leg, a gesture I would have found extremely funny if I weren't so peeved at the moment.

"You having a hard time with that rice there pal?" Ling squawked, peering over at my totally ravished bowl. I think I even managed to break the end off of one of my chopsticks.

"Just peachy," came my retort as I released another pent up breath of frustration.

"I could feed you," Chien Po offered.

I met his suggestion with a blank stare.

"Can I say no and still keep my honor?" I replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ping did the whole glare thing again, something I was becoming fairly accustomed to within the duration of my stay on this planet.

As amusing as it was to watch Ling's voice crack every five seconds and see just how long the bench table could sustain Chien Po's weight, I opted to retreat from the scene and seek refuge in my tent. Dusk was drawing to an end, and pretty soon the entire army would be joining me too in my slumber. Some were already beginning to saunter off into the mosquito infested night air, in search of a pillow and some quiet.

I wasn't as dazed as most of the other members who were stumbling off to their tents, for I was fueled on by the adrenalin of anger, and preferred to stomp around the camp ground in search of my personal canvas so I could fume in peace.

Bringing up family I can't remember never really sets me in a good mood. I rely on myself because that's all I have. I no longer have a family to speak of—much less one that cares if I dishonor them with my pyrotechnics. No Organization member speaks of their past fondly...especially if it was a happy past, simply because it is no longer with them. Ignorance is something we all longed for. We all wanted our memory swiped, our minds to simply forget what we had lived though. Of course, Roxas was the only one who followed up on this desire, and had his lazy bum planted on some stupid planet eons away from all the rest of us who remained dead. Ya know, he's gonna have to die sometime. He can't keep reincarnating forever.

Ping was going all PMS-ie on me back there, something I had no tolerance for considering he was a guy. He had no menstrual cramps to speak of, no pain or hormone in balance to blame it on, so I didn't have a reason to put up with it. Well, I take than hormone imbalance part back. But Demyx never got away with anything by saying he had an abundance of estrogen running through his system, so why should Ping?

Goodness, as much as I hated that undead girl impersonator, I actually missed having him around. At least, I think I miss him. Technically I'm not supposed to miss anyone or anything. I miss having the ability to miss though, which makes no sense in the long run, and is something I should not even be able to do. How can I possibly miss missing? Since I am no longer capable of such, I have to take blind stabs at what the memory of this emotion must represent. But here I am, feeling something I know logically I should not feel, yet an all encompassing loneliness is overcoming me which is, again, something not possible.

But wasn't loneliness the whole reason I talked myself into going on this stupid famishing escapade?

And here I am, still feeling lonely, and missing the dinners in which Larxene threw things at me and Zexion contemplated the emotion behind eating a chicken.

How could I _not_ miss them? They're the only family I have. Sure, they kill things and torture as a pastime, but it's where I belong. They're the ones who understand what I'm going through.

Stupid me. Actually thinking a mere mortal wife would be capable of understanding what I was going through. How could she unless she was dead?

And the available dead females in the galaxy that still have enough mental capacity to hold a conversation is exceedingly limited. Like, down to one.

And for the love of all things sacred, I can't handle even _thinking_ about that right now.

I needed to go to sleep. And I needed to do so now. Thinking depressing thoughts is more torture for a member of the Organization than it is for most mortals. We don't even have the option of killing ourselves, regardless of how much we may want to do so. We're already dead. Nobody knows what happens to us once we fade out. Will we maintain a soul in the after-after life? Automatically we all say no. But then again, how many of us thought we'd maintain a soul in this after life? None of us wants to be in a worse place and still aware. It's bad enough being aware here, in this odd limbo between life and death. Obviously, the ones capable of holding this conversation total to about thirteen. Well, twelve now. So it's a very exclusive, depressed group that nobody in their right mind would want to be part of anyway.

I'm beginning to see why Larxene is perpetually cranky.

You can only go so long ignoring these thoughts.

Apparently Roxas reached his limit two months ago.

Was that the equivalent of committing suicide as a Nobody?

Regardless, finding my tent was probably the best possible option. If I kept dwelling on these confounded thoughts inspired by the oh so noble Ping, I was going to go insane. It's a wonder any of us members even bother to wake up in the morning. We can hardly stand each other.

Though hating isn't exactly something we're capable of either.

Right as I was dragging my feet down the isles of clone like tents—my anger had finally run its course in its typical brooding, keep it all inside manner, and I was crashing from the adrenalin rush—and I was ready to go to bed and put all thoughts of how-is-it-even-_possible_-I'm-mad-at-Ping aside.

Of course, I was not even granted this small pleasure; the only sanctuary I (or any other member) has.

Li Shang was marching down the aisles of worn grass that lay precariously between the tents, huffing all the while and occasionally peeking in on one every so often. I concluded that, by the crunching sound the grass was making under his feet and the furrowing of his brow, he was probably looking for me, who had boldly played hooky on their after school detention.

The thought crossed my mind of telling him that it's not very nice to barge into people's rooms like that without knocking, especially if they're male and changing for bed. Then I could question if he was a female instead of me.

However, I chose to listen to my oh-so-bold authority defying tendencies and opted ... to run.

That was sarcasm, for those of you who didn't catch it.

Even though confronting him meant losing my so called honor, I'm not to sure running from a fight was the best way to keep it, either.

Regardless, I ran so fast I thought Maleficent herself was on my tail. Funny how I come here to kill things and I'm backing down from an opportunity. I told myself he was human and therefore out of the question and continued to speed down the aisles looking for refuge. I couldn't find my tent, or any empty one for that matter, and finally forgot about politeness and manners and threw myself into the nearest make shift home possible.

After bombarding through the entrance and toppling into the unexpected lap of soldier, I even went so far as to start apologizing for my rudeness. I know I could have just told them to leave or I'd threaten their life, and then proceed in torturing them until they succumbed to me superior will, but thought better of it. Hit and run is more of Luxord's style anyway.

"Oh my gosh!" I heard a voice squeal, before my eyes could adjust to the dark.

Now I don't know about you, but I have never heard a soldier squeal 'oh my gosh.'

"Listen, I'm really sorry about all this but someone out there is trying to kill me."

Okay, so I exaggerated a little, but I couldn't deal with Shang in the mood I was in and guarantee his safety...or his life, for that matter.

I heard some frantic rustling as my new room mate started to search for the lantern among his personals.

"Aha, here it is," a voice said.

I took that as my cue to save him the trouble of locating the matches and lit the lantern with my finger tip.

What met my gaze was a very curvy version of Ping with long hair and a pink fluffy bathrobe exposing a very large amount of cleavage.

Holy. Hell.

"You want to explain to me something?" I asked in a shaky voice, eye brows shot half way up my forehead and eyes bulging.

"What?" Ping asked innocently, voice still manly and gruff.

I wanted to scream, YOUR CHEST, but as audacious as I am, I still make an effort to be somewhat polite, at least when it comes to females. I allowed Belle to keep her jugular vein, I could let Ping keep his...womanhood.

"Um..." I said nothing. Instead I pointed to the target in question and let the bathrobe do the talking.

"Oh my gosh!"

I watched as Ping tried to clutch her bathrobe shut and tie her hair up.

"You're still dressed in pink," I offered, smirking at his...her..lame attempt to hide the obvious.

Ping was trying desperately to come up with an excuse. It wasn't working.

"What?" I teased, trying to lighten the tension and make Ping feel as ease. "You finally discovered the wonders of surgery?"

I originally intended to make Ping smile. All I succeeded in doing was making her glare.

"I do not have implants!" Ping hissed menacingly, missing the entire innuendo of my joke. "These are real!"

"Glad to hear it sweetheart," I replied, voice brimming with amusement. Though it was slightly odd to refer to Ping as sweetheart after trying for so long to convince myself she was male.

Instead of going down the awkward path, I chose to look at the whole spectacle as quite hilarious. It's not like I hadn't seen stranger things. Demyx trying to perform a pirouette as a victory dance after defeating a heartless is one of these things.

"Don't you dare call me sweetheart!"

"But why not?" I pouted.

Ping made a very odd, feminine, growly thing in the back of her throat, like a woman on the edge of homicide.

Female anger amuses me so.

"This is _so_ embarrassing!"

Seeing how I was genuinely upsetting her over something that wasn't all that trivial, I decided maybe I should cut back on the side comments.

"I can...uh...turn around."

My attempts at chivalry. It's not like I have much practice.

"No, no, it's fine," Ping snipped, clearly irked. "You already saw everything anyway."

"Well, technically darling, I didn't see _everything_..."

I received a violent kick in the back.

"I meant metaphorically."

Goodness, what is it with these females and their confounded metaphors?

It was at this moment I heard Li Shang start to make his way through the row of tents behind us.

I reflexively turned my head around to the direction of the voice, and saw just how drastically pale Ping's face had gotten in the past three seconds.

"Please don't tell him," Ping pleaded, her whispering voice frantic with emotion. "It will bring dishonor to my family."

I know what you're thinking. Now Axel will finally get back at her for all of that family crap Ping made him eat at the dinner table. All those lines about love, honor, respect, dignity, and everything else Hallmark charges an arm and a leg for to get printed on a foldable piece of cardboard. Now he'll finally make things even.

It's moments like these when I swear I have a soul.

"Fine," I muttered, though I would have loved to find out what color Shang's face turns after purple.

"I think he's looking for you anyway," Ping replied, not thanking me for my amazing generosity.

"You better not turn me in if I spared you," I warned, readying my vocal chords to scream 'Ping's a cross dresser!' if she opposed.

"I think you'd better run," Ping suggested.

"I think we both should."

Ping glared at me. "I need to stay here and fight to bring honor to my family!"

Gosh. Here she goes with the family thing again.

"Alright. You do that. I'm leaving before Li Shang whips the floor with me."

"You're just going to get lost," Ping buffed.

"Well then why don't you be a dear and help me find my ship before I expose your gender?"

Ping's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't."

"I would."

Ping growled in frustration, throwing on her battle clothes to hide the things the bathrobe exposed. "The gods curse you," she muttered under her breath. Mushu was conveniently asleep during such a request. For a moment I mourned not being able to say good bye to him, but immediately thought better of it.

The moment Ping was dressed—properly—we commenced crawling on our hand and knees so Shang wouldn't see our head peeking up over the top of the tents. When we were out of eye sight, Ping bolted upright, even faster than me (I suppose she was anxious to get rid of me...I knew her dirty little secret) and proceeded to make a mad dash up the mountainside to the bamboo thicket where my ship lay in waiting.

"Is Ping even really your name?" I asked after the camp was nothing but a distant blur behind us.

"No," Ping called over her shoulder, for she was in front of me leading the way, though I doubt the directions 'up the hill and straight ahead' would have been very hard to follow.

"Well...?" I prodded, increasing me speed to be within earshot.

"My name's Mulan. Fa Mulan."

I paused, scrunching up my nose a little, a common gesture I make when something displeases me.

You would think with all the times I've encountered Xigbar my nose would have atrophied into that position by now.

"I can see why you changed it to Ping," I muttered off hand.

I think I was tempting Mulan to commit murder.

But then again, that wouldn't bring much honor to her family, now would it?

Though I seriously doubt Li Shang would condemn her for it. In fact, he'd probably give her a purple heart for hurting _another_ soldier in battle.

"Like Axel is any better," Mulan buffed.

Eventually we reached my ship, and I was never so grateful to see the Heart Throb in my life. I couldn't wait to put Li Shang as far behind me as possible.

"You came here in...that?" Mulan asked incredulously.

"It's not mine," I hurriedly replied. "I'm borrowing it from a friend."

Mulan seemed to accept that as an answer, for she slowly began to walk away and make her descent into the bamboo thicket that led back to the character building camp of doom.

"What?" I called after her. "No good bye kiss?"

The little she-man whirled around. "I would never...!"

"But you want to," I finished for her.

It's quite odd how Mulan's face turns the exact shade of Li Shang's when so provoked.

"I...I...how...never...!"

"I know, I know," I cooed. "I'm sorry this has to be good bye too. But I just don't see any future in this relationship. I mean, you're gender confused and I'm dead. I just don't think we're compatible. I'm sorry, but I have to break up with you."

"Break up with me!" Mulan shouted in such a high tone it was comparable to that of a dog whistle. It's a good thing I parked so far away from camp, otherwise Shang and half his army would be here thinking I was some evil menace threatening the life of an over reacting child. "We were never going out!"

"...I was kidding."

"Why would I _ever_ want to go out with you?"

Here we go again. I should have kept my big mouth shut.

"First of all," Mulan began, stomping towards me, "You have no respect for authority! None what so ever! Second of all, you have no sense of dignity. You do things your way just because it's good for you, even if it totally goes against the benefit of everyone else. Thirdly, you have no concept of the meaning of family! That was truly evident at the dinner table. Fourth of all, you are completely lacking in patience. And fifth of all, where on earth is your honor! Sixth of all—"

"Darling," I cut in. "Are you sure you can count that high?"

Mulan returned my honest question with a growl of dissatisfaction.

Basically, all she was saying is I'm a bad person because I think for myself and I have the balls to question the opinion of others. I mean, those a hundred things she mentioned are nice things to strive for, but no one is actually perfects them, and it's unrealistic to say anyone could. Besides, this whole emphasis on family is beginning to annoy me, mainly because I had none, or none that I can remember for that matter. (Can you see me introducing her to my so called 'family'? Hi, this is Demyx, he's gay. This is Luxord, he likes to kill things. This is Larxene, she hates my guts. This is Zexion, he terrorizes small children but won't harm a chicken. This is Xemnas, he wants to take over the world.) Hearing her rambling about that confounded family thing constantly would make me perpetually depressed. And I don't need that.

Besides, she had the hots for Li Shan. And we all knew it.

Well, at least I did anyhow.

I would hope no one else was looking at her when she was still a he.

Then again, I was.

But that's because Mulan is far from perfecting the art of being male. Heck, sometimes I think Xemnas is far from perfecting the art of being a male. I knew all along Mulan/Ping was a little...quirky. And now I knew why. Horrah.

"Good bye honey," I said, waving to her from the top of my ship. "Try not to pine over me too much, okay?"

I didn't receive a repeatable answer in response.

I suppose Mulan was embarrassed about having been found out. At least, that's what I tell myself when I start to dwell on her outburst a little more than I should. Girls do funny things when they're upset. Well, except for Larxene. She's pretty predictable. She'll either throw something at you or make an attempt on your life. I've grown pretty accustomed to both.

Once I was in the privacy of my ship, and the Mulan squeals died off in the distance, I finally let out an exhilarated, "I'M NOT GAY!" victory cry upon the realization that Ping was indeed a female. Needless to say, I was very relieved.

Though I would have loved to have seen Larxene's expression when I came home with another man on my arm and said to her, "Ya know what Larxie? You were right. I am gay. Thanks for pointing me in the right direction!"

She may actually kill me at that point. Not because I was gay, but because I had caught her off guard and she could no longer make fun of me for it.

Ya know, if her misery was the result of such, maybe I should lie to her and blatantly state, "I _do_ love Roxas!"

Nothing would give me more pleasure than to see her crestfallen face at the realization of my new sexual orientation.

Of course, my testicles would never allow me to do such.

Neither would my brain.

So for now all I could do was dream about the misery she would be in if I did perform the aforementioned.

It was what I fell asleep thinking about.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Oh. My. Gosh.

I fell asleep in the Heart Throb. Again.

I'm contaminated. And Medicare doesn't carry over into the after life. Goodness I'm screwed.

I tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes as quickly as possible, eager to get off of this planet before Li Shang made a welcome mat out of me. I had no desire to see that come true.

So there I was, tinkering with the controls mindlessly trying to figure out what planet was blessed to be graced with my presence next. What unexpecting individuals whose lives would be further enriched by my pending words of wisdom. What future woman would be lucky enough to serve as my girlfriend. What crowd would be further captivated with my dashing good looks and effortless charm. What person—

"So, word is on the street you dig oriental transvestites."

She couldn't get enough of me, could she?

"Well, truth be told," I began, not bothering to turn around to confirm who my approacher was, for I already knew too well. "I do find oriental women exceedingly attractive." It was then I chose to swivel in my chair, not out of curiosity, but simply for dramatic effect. "And I believe, darling Larxene, that you were Irish in your past life, no?"

"English," Larxene corrected. "You were Irish."

"Oh, that's right."

I noted a very obnoxious combination of gauze and bandages being displayed on Larxene's invisible nose. The facial feature was swamped in a large plethora of medical tape and band aids which made Larxene look incredibly...well...unattractive.

"Sexy," I drawled out, heeding the bloated face of my comrade, all thanks to me, of course.

"Oh please. Like I worry about my aesthetics when it comes to you."

Larxene didn't seem as irked as she was before hand about the entire incident. She probably realized, though I was the one who initially takes the blame for the disfigurement, I would never have been provoked into doing such if she hadn't stabbed me with that snitchy comment of hers.

Regardless, I felt oddly guilty about it.

So what do I do when I run into a scenario that contradicts my previous opinion?

I ignore it. Of course.

"If I'm Irish and you're English, why don't we have accents anymore?"

Larxene rolled her eyes at my stupidity, even though we both knew she didn't have a definite answer either.

"We're dead, remember?"

"Oh how could I forget?" I inquired. "It's how I met you."

Larxene hissed at my tedious mock flirtation.

"Death is universal," she dryly explained. "None of us have accents. We're all the same nationality now."

I blinked a couple times at her explanation.

"That was a load of crap," I shot out. "You just don't wanna admit you don't know."

"Of course I know!" Larxene snapped. "We're dead, we forget stuff. End of story. This isn't even _relevant_ to the conversation."

"What conversation?" I laughed at the absurdity. "We were never _having_ a conversation. Unless you count you throwing transvestites in my face a conversation!"

"...well, it was a start..." Larxene began, her voice rather nasal due to the blockage of her miniscule nose.

"A conversation involves two people, dear," I reminded her patronizingly. "You insulting me is not a conversation."

"But it does involve two people," Larxene pointed out.

I shot her my infamous confused face, or what I like to refer to as my: WTF expression.

"What? That's pathetic," I chuckled. "I win."

Larxene's eyes widened in horror at the prospect of her losing something, anything, to the likes of me.

"I didn't know we were in a contest," she buffed, trying to maintain her composure.

I determined I had to crack it.

"Ya know, your voice sounds really funky today. Do you have a cold?"

That did it.

For the next five minutes, I was the recipient of a bundle of Larxene profanities and awkward facial gestures, which were even more amusing than usual thanks to that wad of tape between her mouth and eyes. The entire middle of her face was temporarily paralyzed, and she was trying in vain to make faces without her cheeks and nose.

Heh. It was even effecting her snarling, which used to be so characteristic of her, too. Pity. Now she almost looks like a normal girl.

"Was there a reason you came down here?" I questioned skeptically, arching my eyebrow in a superior manner. The louder Larxene got the quieter I got, until she had to stop screaming just to hear me.

The method worked rather effectively in quieting her down, I must say.

"I just wanted to know if you were really into the transvestite thing."

"You should know," I quipped. "You were eaves dropping."

Of course, I did not entirely know this for sure, but letting my confidence down in front of Larxene was strictly forbidden.

Larxene huffed at my accusation. "I wasn't there the _whole_ time," she defended herself saying. "I had to go back home and get someone to set my nose, since your lanky tooth pick legs got in my way."

"Intentional," I offered in a singing, taunting manner as I proceeded to spin around in my chair and turn my attention back to the controls.

Of course, I wasn't really interested in the controls. But I couldn't let Larxene know that.

Larxene followed suit, and began to walk towards the door. I, of course, knew she wasn't really leaving, for if she was, she'd have used a teleporter, not the door.

In spite of the fact that I knew this, I still felt the urge to think of something to make her stay. Yes, I got over myself and was the first to talk. I took the fall of humility for her. I told you I was half way decent.

"So...um..." I began awkwardly, not because I was embarrassed to be the one breaking the silence, but because I didn't now how to word what I was going to say. "Who set your nose?"

"...Xigbar," Larxene replied, stopping mid step but not turning around.

"I thought you two broke up."

Larxene seemed taken aback by the assertiveness of my previous statement. I didn't pose the former in a question. It was harsher than that. I posed it as a statement.

I didn't turn my chair around, but I could catch glimpses of Larxene's blond head in the reflection of the metal panels overhead.

"We did," Larxene answered in the softest voice I had ever heard her use while in my presence. "I didn't think you noticed."

"The absence of the googly eye action at the dinner table was my first hint," I spat out. "You'd have to be frickin' blind not to notice that going on. Besides, the whole holding hands thing was getting kind of nauseating."

My temperature was beginning to rise to quite an alarming degree.

It's not fair that two members get to be blissfully unaware of all the misery that surrounds them simply because they had each other, while all the rest of us had to make due with our perpetual singleness just because there was a desperate lack of females. No wonder Demyx turned gay.

"Um, Axel..." Larxene began.

"What?" I snapped, flicking the radio switch on and off with my right index finger just to make it appear that I was doing something; that I wasn't devoting my full attention to her.

"Your...left hand..."

"What about it?"

"No...really, Axel..." Larxene's eyes widened in the reflection as she turned more than just her head in my direction. I chose now to finally swivel around and face her.

"Yes?" I challenged, trying to look completely unscathed by the emotions I'm not supposed to have.

"Your left hand is on fire."

My nose scrunched up at the notice. I looked down and saw that my left hand was indeed engulfed in flames. I cursed and tried hastily to put it out, which only took about two seconds, but it was two seconds too many, for Larxene had already witnessed my unvocal display of emotions.

"Oh please," I buffed, like this happened all the time, when in reality I was just trying to avert attention elsewhere. "Like your hair fingers don't buzz when you're upset."

"Hair fingers?" Larxene repeated in confusion.

"Those two stupid things you've got sticking out of your head. Hair fingers."

"My hair fingers do not buzz when I'm upset!" she insisted. "Besides, hair fingers is a dumb word for them anyway."

"You just used it yourself," I pointed out.

Larxene glared. She then summoned a portal and readied herself for departure.

"Leaving so soon?" I mocked.

"You're still single," she snipped. "You have work to do."

"Mhmm," I drawled out in lazy acknowledgement.

"Oh, by the way," Larxene called over her shoulder. "I borrowed Lexaeus' tomahawk and chopped Li Shang's stupid big stick down. That pole is now fire wood."

This sudden dawning of knowledge befell me in a very elated state.

"Larxene," I said, looking her straight in the eye with a perfectly placid face. "I love you."

"Bite me," she snipped. And with that, she was gone.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I apologize for the length of this chapter. I almost made it into two parts, but then figured that would mean Axel was spending four chapters in the Land Of Dragons and, well, I didn't want Belle to get jealous. That and the fact my brother thought I was cracking Axel and Mulan together...which, I must say, is quiet a novel concept. However, I need to torture Axel a little more before I pick someone for him to settle down with.

Alright, now it's time for the promised cookies. "Vixen," my brother previously stated. "I don't get the whole cookie thing. It's not like the cookies are actually real."

"Yes, but it's the thought that counts."

"Well I think it's stupid."

So much for the mortally wounding tact of siblings.

Regardless, I threatened to stop updating this fanfiction and he shut up immediately.

I have to say, I am very impressed with the reviews this time round. I got double the amount last time, hence why I was so greatly inspired to spur on and pop this chapter out at the speed of sound. I also want to thank everybody for the vast amount of hits. I'm so happy you all chose to take a chance on me and dedicate a small sliver of your life to reading my story. This story has already passed Flaming Shadows in hits with it's measly five chapters (as opposed to Shadow's fifteen) released all within the span of two months while Flaming Shadows was out for over two years. (Throws cookies out by the bucketful) You all deserve these.

Now, for the specific cookies.

(Hands Hope her routine community size bag of sweets)

(Hand Media Maiden a nice oatmeal cookie for her review...I hope she's not allergic to oats...I don't want to kill my reviewers...)

(Hands Constance Greene a giant chocolate chip cookie, personalized with icing written carefully in the name 'Constance'...Greene wouldn't fit)

(Hands Anime Dutchess a happy bag of Oreos)

(Hands Thunder some cookies and doughnuts for her insightful words concerning the inclusion of Disney characters in a Kingdom Hearts fic)

(Hands Nocturnal some Starbucks cookies and a caramel frappucino)

(Hands Erin a coconut cookie)

(Hands Golden Memories a raisin cookie for her funny 'cracktastic goodness' comment)

(Drops a plethora of cookies on top of Rhain's head)

(Gives Story Weaver a variety pack of cookies for her two individual reviews for two individual chapters)

These were given in the order the reviews were left, I was NOT playing favorites...so nobody get offended, LOL.

I know the cookies aren't real, but it's my eccentric and personalized way of saying thank you to my reviewers for their kind words. If you consider it unusual you can always just skip it.

Besides, it's always fun to see what cookie you'll get.

I also wanted to thank the people who submitted me to C2 communities. That was very benevolent of you. I felt so very, very honored to be invited into such.

Okay. I've rambled enough. I just like saying thank you.

As for the next chapter...Vixen will be burying herself in a butt load of character research material and consulting her brother every five minutes to make sure she's keeping all the Disney people in character. Due to the fact I absolutely have to re-watch the relevant movie if I want any hope of getting these characters down right, this next chapter may take a couple of days to complete. I will either butcher this world completely or succeed in capturing what it would really be like if Axel were plopped right in the middle of the chaos.

I can't believe I'm attempting this world so soon.

This next chapter will be insane.

Well, that's all. Send me some love! See you all later!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me...


	7. Port Royal Part One

Woot. I'm surprised my brother hasn't hyperventilated at the prospect of the Pirate chapter. The bugger has been nagging me non stop for the past couple days. It is to him you owe this speedy update to. His nagging and my inability to tolerate perpetual puppy dog eyes has resulted in another chapter update. Ah well. (Pats Mario affectionately on head) I suppose I'll keep him.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Everybody liked Roxas. I think even Larxene had a soft spot for Roxas. It wasn't a mutual feeling, considering Roxas had to fight the urge to strangle her on several occasions, but for the most part Roxas was pretty popular among the dead.

And upon seeing him with a cereal box on his head I could almost see why.

"Roxas," I drawled out. "What in god's name are you doing?"

"The box said there was a prize in here," Roxas answered. "I can't find it."

"It never occurred to you that maybe the best way to go about locating it was to turn the box over and dump it out?"

Roxas, in all of his box head glory, turned to look at me.

"Oh c'mon Axel, where's the fun in that?"

I rubbed my temples fervently. My friend was never known for his astounding intellect.

"Was it at least a decent prize?" I inquired, sticking a potato in the castle's community microwave. I was cold. As usual.

"It was a dradle," Roxas confirmed, voice muffled by the cardboard. "I want my dradle."

"You're a moron," I insisted, punching in a time for the microwave. "Just thought I'd let you know that."

Roxas extracted his head from the aforementioned cereal box.

"Thank you," he responded, beaming wildly in the midst of my insult.

I opted not to respond. Sometimes I have no words.

It was at that moment Demyx waltzed into the kitchen, getting ready to prepare for dinner, a three hour process which none of us dared to understand. The food was good, so we didn't complain. Of course, upon entering the threshold of the door, Demyx was spotted palming a tiny plastic dradle in his left hand, humming some idiotic up beat song in spite of his macabre surroundings. Apparently the kitchen put him in a very good mood.

"Heyyyyy," Roxas stretched out, eyeing the toy he was so desperately trying to locate. "That's mine!"

Demyx looked up, face donning innocence.

"I didn't see your name on it though."

I shot a deadly glare over my shoulder.

"Let him have the damn dradle," I snapped at the dumb founded sitar player.

"But...but..." he insisted, his fragile (yet powerfully irritating) voice faltering accordingly. "It's pink! And pink is my favorite color!"

"Ew," was Roxas' one word retort. "Ya know Demyx, sometimes you make me wonder..."

And that was Roxas for you. Saying the things everyone else was thinking but had too much tact (or common sense) to repeat.

"Well you want the dradle too," Demyx pointed out, spinning the stupid thing for good measure on the stainless steel kitchen counter. God forbid we have any warm colors in the kitchen. Everything was black and metal. We definitely needed some interior decorating, or at the very least a distinct female touch, but seeing the lack of females (not counting Larxene who rather enjoyed seeing my discontent with the kitchen's design) the cooking area was not going to get redone anytime soon.

Roxas and Demyx were both captivated in silence as they watched the dradle spin round and round. I had never seen two people so easily amused in both my lives.

At that moment, the microwave beeped, signaling the limit of my potato, and I eagerly retracted it and stuck it in my pocket. I considered just lighting my hands on fire for warmth but that may prove to be a safety hazard. That and it kinda freaked Roxas out. Larxene, too, but I didn't care if it displeased her. In fact, I rather enjoyed it.

Xaldin randomly entered the room, probably wondering what was the draw that attracted such a horde of dead people to the kitchen. On passing by Roxas, he mindlessly patted him affectionately on his blond colored spikes and continued to stomp toward the microwave.

"Move," Xaldin ordered in his deep, masculine voice. Usually I was a candidate for more respect (such intolerance was usually reserved for Demyx), but Xaldin never had a way with words. "I need to heat up my soup."

I looked skeptically at the microwavable Campbell's soup can Xaldin was now placing into the cooker. The picture of such a large, broad man cradling a dinky microwavable plastic tin almost made me laugh out loud.

"Hey!" Demyx shot out annoyed. "I'm cooking ya know!"

"I want a snack," Xaldin bellowed unrelentlessly.

Demyx knew better than to argue.

I saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner's of Xaldin's lips as he watched Roxas' eyes grow as large as saucers as he spun the dradle around yet again, his captivation unyielding.

I decided to do the unspeakable and attempt a conversation with Xaldin.

"Pink dradles amuse you so?" I questioned, going out on a limb with the pleasantries I so despise.

"He reminds me of my kid," Xaldin replied, not making eye contact but choosing to continue watching Roxas in his fascination with the stupid piece of plastic.

That was all the explanation I got. And that was all I was willing to go for.

I momentarily wondered why Xaldin even remembered his kid. Perhaps it was one memory he was intentionally not letting go. Maybe he wrote it down somewhere. Maybe it was so scolded into the recesses of his mind he couldn't forget. Personally, I wouldn't bother remembering. It would be too painful. But Xaldin saw some correlation between that of his dead comrade and his child, and who am I to make judgment on who chooses to remember what?

I remember having a heart and that's enough for me.

On exiting the room, Xaldin patted Roxas' head again, the kid's cranium bobbing up and down under the force, and continued out of the room once his soup was done.

I suppose one major draw to Roxas was his contagious happiness. The kid was dead, for god sakes, and he was still running around grinning like a prozac induced idiot. But we all appreciated the good humor none of us was willing to supply. It was infectious. It was uplifting. It made us forget we were supposed to be miserable for awhile. Even when Roxas went emo on us, which none of liked (we all secretly mourned the transformation due to the fact the one light spot in our day had just withered into nothing) but we still were there for him anyway. And when a horde of soulless, blood thirsty villains finds the value of friendship and is willing to tolerate anything that displeases them, you know the person in question meant something. Maybe the memory of his utter blissfulness, and how many times it had unintentionally helped us through various days where we felt like killing ourselves but couldn't, kept us hanging on for him, hoping he'd snap out of it and we'd get our old spark plug back.

He never did snap out of it.

But I try not to think about such things, it upsets me too much.

And when I get upset, I set on fire.

Not a good thing when you're situated so close to the gas tank of the Heart Throb.

I decided to avert my attention (so as not to spontaneously combust) to the hologram map that was coming in pretty handy. Though, I must admit, every adventure I had encountered thus far with it had been somewhat less than pleasurable, it did seem to have its uses. Now if only it could direct me to somewhere that has an abundance of healthy, single, willing females who I could woo with my many talents I'd be a happy man. Well, a happy dead man. But still a man, none the less. Gender does not change upon death. At least not as far as I am concerned.

Confound it. I still needed to kill something.

I tried to pick the most ominous looking planet that appeared on my radar screen. Agrabah looked too darn cheerful and I could have sworn Atlantica had friggin' musical notes coming off of it, so I opted to go to a dark little thing called Port Royal. The information that popped up accordingly concerning the mysterious little rock said there were apparent pirates lurking around on the abundant seas the planet housed.

Hmm. Pirates. Pirates deserve to die, right? They kill and pillage and plunder and loot. They deserved a good smacking. Not like Xigbar is any better, but I'm not allowed to kill him.

I hypersped, once again, to the planet of my choice. So what if I return Demyx's ship half empty? He was out to murder me anyhow. Might as well make the endeavor well worth his efforts.

Of course, one thing I overlooked when I went on my hyperspeed frenzy is that it tends to over heat a couple key components in the motor of the ship, like the accelerator and breaking mechanisms. This fact was not brought to my attention until I found myself hurtling out of control, through the gravity field, and making a death defying plummet into the murky water that surrounded the critically acclaimed port. I momentarily wondered, as I rushed through the atmosphere in a hideous display of metallic blue and pink, if Demyx had installed air bags. I knew I hadn't bothered on my previous ship, and upon questioning as to why I simply responded, "Well, I'm already dead."

True. Dying from a mere ship crash wasn't really a possibility. But I wasn't really looking forward to a broken face, either.

Leave it to good ol' Demyx to be the one to install air bags in his beloved Heart Throb. Sometimes, though I will scarcely admit it, that kid is a genius (even though three days prior I would have mocked his paranoia unmercifully regardless of how much I was appreciating his precautions now.) Of course, no stroke of Demyx genius can be performed without an equally strong stoke of sheer stupidity.

The air bags were hot pink.

I wanted to die. No, really. I wanted to just die instead of prolonging the torture. Just the very thought that the supplier of these exceedingly flamboyant air bags was riding around in probably the most intimidating gummi ship in the galaxy (Saix took great pride in designing his air ship, which I always considered a foolish notion seeing as though he teleports everywhere anyway) just made me want to vomit what little rice patty I had managed to get down.

Hitting the water was the worst part. The ship didn't sink. It bounced. And I got whip lash. Needless to say, I was not very happy. Though, I guess it is the better alternative to, ya know, dying and stuff.

I don't know who designed the Heart Throb (though I couldn't really think of any straight person who would) but they did a good job making the thing buoyant. It just sorta floated there, in the middle of sea, the port not to far off, and I was left to appreciate the cute little hearts Demyx had designed to pattern his air bags.

Apparently he wanted to be amused if he crashed.

I glared at my happy surroundings. After awhile I finished fuming and was able to navigate the Heart Throb to the docks. Dusk had just terminated, the sun leaving just a distant reminder of its presence, and night was finally setting in. At least there was nothing to reflect the ridiculous shimmer of my transportation. I really should have just stuck to teleportation.

But, alas, I couldn't teleport the Heart Throb with me, and if I didn't return it somewhat intact Demyx might suffer a heart attack and die, and Xemnas would probably blame me for the death, meaning I would become experiment number 134 and get to undergo all kinds of fun stuff.

Needless to say, the Heart Throb and I would be staying bosom buddies just a little while longer.

The ship began its long floatation to the docks of Port Royal, which seemed rather peaceful at the moment. I would hate to disrupt the placid nature of the town, but mayhem seems to have some sort of deranged attachment to me.

I dismounted the now boyant, bobbing Heart Throb (oh, the things I thought I'd never see) and stepped onto the awaiting wooden dock that seemed to jut out into the ocean with such a sharpness I wondered if it was humanely possible to impale someone on it. Regardless of the melancholy thoughts running through my head, I began to saunter into the beckoning lights of the impending town oozing as much confidence as it is humanely possible for a man who has been rejected two times in three days.

"Hey, you there!"

My ears perked to the beckon that was not called forth in a female voice, which I must say rather disappointed me.

I turned to see a rather stalky looking individual donning a ridiculous looking fluffy white wig that had the appearance of adhesive cotton balls in addition to a rather unsightly combination of bold, gold buttons and an awkwardly lengthened over coat.

I was suddenly very thankful for my monotone Organization uniform.

"Can we please deal with this some other time?" I requested, flashing my trademark smirk in hopes of charming my way out of this distraction. "I'm rather preoccupied at the moment."

"Doing what?" the pale man demanded.

"Well, not that it's any of your business, but I need to locate someone of the female persuasion, if that's alright with you."

The gawky mortal eyed me suspiciously. He kept glancing up and down at my much more pleasant attire (I assumed he was envying it) and if I didn't know any better I would have momentarily drawn the conclusion he was checking me out.

Ew.

"So what's your name?" I blurted out, in a lame attempt to be amiable so as to avoid further interrogation.

"You can call me Commodore."

I quirked an eyebrow. "That's a stupid name."

The Commodore glared at me. "It's not my name, it's my title."

"Ahh, but I didn't ask for your title, now did I? I asked for your name."

The Commodore seemed rather flabbergasted for a minute.

"I'm the one asking the questions here, not you!"

"Says who?" I countered.

"Me! That's who!"

I have here by determined I hold the innate ability to change people's faces different colors.

"You're face is turning white, you do know that, right?"

It's amusing the reactions you can receive when you dare to defy authority. Not that I recommend such, oh impressionable young ones, but once you're dead morals are a thing of the past.

"I see no relevance in debating such!"

"Relevance? Ya know Commodore, you shouldn't use big words you don't know the meaning to."

The Commodore simmered in the midst of my audaciousness.

"Well I know the meaning to one word," he snarled, leaning in dangerously close to me face (add his proximity to the way he was checking my outfit out before and I think we have a candidate for Larxene's gay infatuation right here.)

"And what word would that be?"

"Pirates!" The Commodore hissed. I blinked to avoid the bombardment of spit that was thrown my way. I think I'm becoming a saliva magnet.

I glanced skeptically over my shoulder, eying the Heart Throb in all of its flamboyant glitter and bounciness.

"You think I'm a pirate?" I smirked, putting forth such an absurd notion in a voice of incredulity. Given my feminine mode of transportation I would make for one fruity pioneer of the seas.

"That is what I'm suspecting, yes," the Commodore confirmed.

I guess I should have known attention would be drawn when a member of the undead comes hurtling out of the sky in a flash of metallic pink and blue.

"Aye, but what you haven't been expecting is the real pirate to show up and ruin your little jibber jabber, no?"

The Commodore whirled around.

"Savvy?"

Now, I have seen stupid done before. I do live with Xemnas, after all. But never before had I seen a sought after criminal walk—well, it was more like a stagger—up to a figure of authority and blatantly state their less than commendable occupation.

"You have got to be the worst pirate I have ever heard of," I laughed, though I must say, it was a rather convenient distraction.

"Yes mate, but you _have_ heard of me."

I suppose I could go on a dissertation and list all the hues found in the color wheel as the Commodore's face slowly transformed from one shade to the next, but the pirate now in question would be a much more worthy of my adjectives than the sputtering, nameless man next to me.

Before I say anything else on my rescuer's behalf, let me say this: it has now been confirmed I am not the only man in the galaxy that wears war paint. It was a comforting dawning of realization.

However, while the self proclaimed pirate may have taken after me in my incredible sense of fashion, he seemed to be rather intoxicated, judging by the awkward, wavering gait he possessed as he stumbled from one end of the dock to the other. I attributed his less than thought out appearance to the alcohol that must have been running through his system and figured a drunken pirate was better than no pirate at all.

The pillager in question was adorned in a vast array of shiny things, which enticed me, no doubt. I assumed they were all previously stolen from some unexpecting victim, but that didn't take away from their intrigue. It's odd how, while the glistering decor of the man's outfit looked rather awe provoking on him, if Xemnas donned the same costume he would have looked like a total fruit.

Kind of like when Demyx tried to copy my war paint phenomenon and turned out looking like a cross dresser. Unfortunately I never got to witness this spectacle, but it was foretold to me with great vigor and zest when Larxene came stomping into my bedroom yelling, "We don't need two fags!"

Goodness, that chick has powerful vocal chords.

I remember, on the week Larxie joined our horde of the diabolical undead, praying for the day she would temporarily catch laryngitis and therefore be rendered voiceless for a couple hours. Of course, getting sick isn't something that happens to the dead, and I finally gave up on the dream once I realized it was completely in vain.

But Roxas and I still joked about it, though.

"Jack Sparrow," The Commodore hissed, his mouth setting in a firm line as he glared at this convenient distraction placed before me. I began to slink off back to the ship until I realized attempting to be discreet in the Heart Throb was not humanely possible.

Seeing my lack of options, I chose to participate in the conversation.

It's not like I could get killed anyway.

"Aww, you two know each other?" I cooed, returning to my original post beside the two of them. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to be amused.

Or be amusing, for that matter.

"Yes, he's a pirate," the cotton ball donning individual added, eyes never leaving this apparently infamous Jack Sparrow. This man had a ridiculous infatuation with pirates and checking every person on the dock out.

This is when the very strange, eccentric thought of actually helping Jack out crossed my mind. Here's my logic: pirates are very bold, fearless people. And pirates know other pirates. And there's a fifty percent chance that other pirate is going to be female. And if she's a female pirate, chances are she won't be too freaked out with my undead presence and fascination with, well, killing things.

I have a one tracked mind. What can I say?

"This is the infamous Jack Sparrow," The Commodore officially introduced, though I couldn't tell why he was bothering. I assumed by the intensity in his voice that this Sparrow fellow was supposed to strike some sort of fear in my non existing heart. He, of course, didn't, but I enjoyed watching this Commodore man struggle against going ballistic and ripping the jugular vein out of Jack Sparrow's convulsing body.

Yes, graphic, I know. But I have a vivid imagination. Comes with killing things for a living.

"He has been plaguing the seas with his presence for the past decade," the Commodore continued to explain. "These pirates pillage without remorse. Stories tell of destruction and death lying in their wake, and they leave no survivors."

Jack seemed to have his interest perked at this last remark.

"Well then where do the stories come from, I wonder?"

I opened my mouth to join in with a witty remark of my own, but actually closed it in surprise when I realized I would have a hard time out smarting what was just said. For a drunkard, this man seemed rather astute.

Strange.

"Um, I don't mean to interrupt the moment here," I barged in, attempting to sound apologetic but failing miserably, I'm sure. "But what, exactly, did Jack do?"

"He's a _pirate_!" The Commodore hissed.

"Yes mate, I think we have already established that."

Jack received a deadly glare in response to his conceit.

"I know he's a pirate," I began. "But what did he do?"

"Pirates kill and plunder and murder and—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But what did Jack _specifically_ do?"

"Well, he kidnapped Elizabeth Swann for one thing," The Commodore stated, his anger subsiding as he engaged in some intense mental activity. Apparently recalling past events was not his strong point.

"Keep in mind it was after I saved her life," Jack interjected, waving a hand in the air with index finger characteristically poised.

"One deed is not enough to clear a man's name," The Commodore, face now back to it's usual snarl, answered.

"Yes, but it _is_ enough to condemn him."

I stand corrected: for a drunkard, this man was _very_ astute.

"Which brings me to want to question," Jack commenced, sauntering over to where I was objectively standing. "What did this scrawny little mate do?"

"I'm not scrawny," I grunted.

Jack looked sideways as me, left eyebrow skeptically arched, as he slowly gave me the once over with his eyes. He then silently resumed giving his attention to the previous conversation.

"This scallywag came busting in here on that atrocious ship and expected not to be caught wrecking havoc through out the village."

"I was looking for a girlfriend," I inserted flatly, hoping my innocent motives would be enough to clear my name.

"You can hardly blame the lad for seeking out pleasurable company to keep him warm during the night," Jack asserted to my defense.

I paused. "I said girlfriend, not prostitute."

I received a sharp elbow from what appeared to be my new pirate comrade directly in the gut. It was probably best I shut up.

"Well he should have gone to Tortuga for that," the Commodore simply replied.

"And of this blaringly obvious ship...?" Jack began, modestly shrugging after feigning a look around. I suppose we were left to fill in the blank that he did not see such.

The Commodore silently pointed behind us.

Jack whirled around, on one foot, of course, with both arms bent upward in a rather dainty fashion, and stumbled backwards upon witnessing the horror that is commonly known as the Heart Throb.

"I stand corrected mate," Jack muttered. "You probably do deserve to do jail time for that."

"It's not mine!" I insisted emphatically, wanting nothing more than to abandon all responsibility of the Heart Throb and the pain it caused.

"Figures, he probably stole it," came the Commodore's haughty reply.

"I did not steal—" I stopped short. I had to cut the sentence off when I abruptly realize that I did, in fact, steal it. Though admitting to such was not in my best interests at this moment.

"So you're saying that that ship is actually _yours_?" Jack questioned, arching his back after he imposed the question on me.

Aw. Crap.

"...yes," came my barely audible response. I was at a lack of options.

"Mate," Jack began, squinting and leaning dangerously close to my face. "Are you an enoch?"

My eyes bulged. Great, now I was dead _and_ castrated. Good luck getting a girl now.

"I can assure you, oh great Commodore," Jack appealed in mock reverence. "No sane pirate would be caught dead driving a ship like that."

The Commodore seemed less than convinced. But given the horrendous appearance of my ship (and my lack of criminal activity) he couldn't really condemn me for anything except defying authority (which I'm sure must have _greatly_ jeopardized my non existing family's non existing honor.)

"So what do you say? Let the lad go find himself a girl. He seems harmless to me."

"Harmless?" I repeated, probably not the smartest move given the frail hold I had on my innocence.

I received another silent side ways once over from Jack.

The Commodore inhaled sharply through his powdered nose, his obnoxious wig of cotton bouncing ever so slightly as he did so.

"Fine," he consented.

"Good," came Jack's firm answer.

Completely blown away by this pirate's inexplicable benevolencey, I almost turned around and thanked him on the spot, something I'm not caught doing all that often. Of course, that was before I felt a knife being pointed at my throat and I found myself caught in a rather strong head lock.

"I can only take the innocent hostage," Jack finished.

"What the...get off me!" I hollered. Being man handled by someone who looks like they are perpetually intoxicated is only slightly demoting. "You just got me out of jail! This isn't fair!"

"Uh...pirate?" Jack informed.

Ya know, some people just deserve to die. I have here by determined Jack is now one of these people.

The Commodore's eyes bulged at the new intensity of the situation. I didn't bother to ease his mind by informing him I couldn't exactly die. At least not by knife and head lock.

"Hey, I _stuck up _for you," I reminded my captor, just incase he somehow magically forgot. "I didn't have to do that, ya know."

"No offense mate," Jack breathed, edging me away from the dock. "But at the rate you were going, I would have been better off sticking up for myself."

Oh he was dead.

The Commodore made a bolt for the village but poetically tripped over a loose board on the dock and went crashing down into the ocean.

Well, the pin head was good for a laugh if nothing else.

Of course, now the matter at hand was how I would terminate Jack's life. Given the previous Roxas abandonment, betrayal wasn't something I was taking all that lightly nowadays, especially when the betrayer was jabbing a knife in my neck. Like that would actually hurt me. It was annoying if nothing else.

I figured I'd do away with him away from the public eye. That way I could be as bloody as I wanted without having to worry about emotionally scarring small children for life.

"Why did you even bother saving me?" I hissed as Jack nudged me away from the village and towards a rather exclusive inlet housed by foliage and sand. "I mean, you have absolutely no reason to be there in the first place."

I didn't wait for Jack to actually give me an answer. The moment the rocks and trees preventing the civilians from seeing my deadly carnival act, I threw the rather malnourished pirate over my left shoulder and smirked as he landed onto the sand with a rather satisfying thud.

I then whipped out my handy dandy pin wheels of destruction and immediately ignited them on fire. While I did realize I was spoiling all my chances of finding a pirate girlfriend, my need for blood lust was much more urgent.

Violence takes priority over romance. This is usually the first sign Xemnas has been messing with your mind.

As soon as Jack wobbled to his already unsteady feet, I promptly rammed one of my weapons directly into his chest cavity, waiting for the satisfying moment where the blood would gush out like a waterfall and I would then get to light his corpse on fire. Of course, none of the highly anticipated actually happened, and I was left staring at a very surprised looking Jack as he looked down and surveyed the pointy metal wheel protruding out of his shirt.

"Impressive," he mused, observing the damage. He then backed up a couple steps, withdrawing himself from the shade of the nearby trees and exposing himself to the moonlight overhead.

It was then that he promptly extracted a dwarf sword that was hidden from underneath his shirt.

"Very impressive mate."

I stood with my mouth ajar staring at the only human being who had ever survived my wrath, and all because the idiot was smart enough to carry his weapon over the breadth of his chest. The only thing I had succeeded in doing was denting his pathetic excuse for a sword, which looked more like an accessory to a Halloween costume than anything else.

Jack, however impressed he claimed to be, promptly snatched my other flaming pin wheel out of my limp hand and dragged me into the moonlight with the force of his snatch.

"You shouldn't have done that mate," Jack warned in what seemed to be an amused sort of voice. "It's not good to make Jack mad."

I stumbled in the sand and felt the air catch in my throat as Jack then swiftly inserted my own weapon into my diaphragm. His aim was remarkably less refined than mine, for he missed my non existing heart by a mile. However, under normal circumstances, such a blow still would have gotten the job done.

Jack stood there in all of his glory and appeared as though he was expecting something. I then realized I was supposed to be dying at this point, which may have been the reason his triumphant smirk faded into a confused state of perplexion as I stood there motionless, glaring daggers at him.

Jack looked over his shoulder at the full moon overhead, and then promptly redirected his gaze back to me. He repeated the motion three times in succession, not being able to draw a much needed parallel between my continuance of existence and the moon being out.

"Something's not right here," he mused, scratching his lower mandible.

I continued to fume in silence.

It's bad enough when someone attempts to kill me. It's even worse when it's with my own weapon.

Jack then threw himself at me and pressed his ear canal against my chest.

"You have no thumpity thump!" he exhaled, apparently invigorated by this concept.

"Dude," I snapped, kneeing him in his well deserving crotch. "You just tried to kill me. Get off."

Jack reeled backwards, flaring his bony extremities out to keep his balance, which was thrown slightly off kilter due to his constant state of drunkenness.

"I didn't want to kill you, mate," Jack insisted. "But you tried to kill me."

I avoided eye contact due to humiliation and busied myself contemplating how to remove the weapon from my lower abdomen.

"Did you take some of the shiny shinies?" Jack inquired, cocking his narrow head to one side.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I snarled, reaching up to grab at the weapon that was precariously placed in my breathing muscle. My body didn't appreciated being violated by pirates wielding my own weapons. Alas, after much aforementioned contemplation, I finally settled on the very astute concept that perhaps simply ripping the confounded thing out was the best way to go. I winced a little as I wretched the pin wheel free from my flesh. None too pleasant, but it was better than the alternative of letting it remain and fester in my muscle tissue (or lack thereof.)

"I'm already dead," I explained, lurching my arm at Jack's hand without warning and reclaiming my weapon unmercifully from his possession.

"Well then, that's something we had in common once, now isn't it?"

The thought of inviting Jack to become an Organization member crossed my mind.

Aside from the fact that he just tried to kill me, at least the Organization would be spared the awkwardness of being one short from thirteen.

Of course, given the previous unraveling of events, I opted to let Jack remain oblivious to my little family of the undead, even though he seemed to be alluding to being one himself, and responded with an unenthusiastic, "Horrah" in response to his previous observation.

"So, do you mind telling me why you did that?" I inquired, letting my pinwheel sink back into darkness.

"What?" Jack asked, perplexed. "The thingie over here or the thingie over there?"

Of course, he referred to the 'thingie over here' by pointing to the sandy ground we were currently standing on and the 'thingie over there' by jabbing a knobby finger in the direction of the dock.

"The thingie over here," I answered curtly.

"I told you, you tried to kill me, mate."

I unintentionally winced at the word 'try.'

"Alright," I breathed in frustration. "What about the thingie over there?"

Jack pointed towards the dock again, only this time he donned a confused expression and pretended not to know what I was talking about.

"What thingie over there?" he questioned. "You followed me here."

I clenched my jaw. "Bull crap. You took me hostage, and now you're trying to cover your sorry butt because you know I can't die."

Jack stood there, blinked his darkened eyes a few times, extended his right index finger and opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was silence and he promptly closed it there after.

"Rightie-o then," he exclaimed, and swiveled around on one booted foot. "Now if you'll be so terribly kind and follow me—"

"I don't exactly have much incentive to help you now, do I?"

Jack sighed in frustration and once again twirled around. I was wondering how he managed to keep his food—and presumably rum—down with all of that confounded swiveling he did constantly.

"Lookie here mate," he began, his voice dipping in volume, which it was known to do on various occasions even though the decrease in audibility was never really called for. "I have a ship, and I can't man it all by me one-sie little self, now can I?"

"Don't you have...like...a crew?" I questioned, my confusion not clearing up.

"Obviously not," Jack dismissed, waving his hand in the air between us for emphasis. I backed up slightly, for there was not that much air between us to begin with. With the unpredictable tones and volumes Jack kept sporadically picking up, I had to lean dangerously close just to hear him. "Now, I figured if you got the ball-sies enough to pilot that hideous excuse of a ship down here in search of a mate, you can't be too shabby of a crew member. Savvy?"

"So you took me hostage because of my ship," I repeated slowly, still not getting it (though I had settled on the conclusion I was going to absolutely maim Demyx when I got home for unintentionally aiding in my humiliation of my missing the one organ I don't have.)

"I saw the..." Jack paused, searching for the correct word. "I saw the...the _sparkly_ thing crash down from them there skies and I says to me self: self, if that lad can salvage the sparkly thing from those seas then he might make a darn good pirate."

Of course, the word 'sparkly' was not reiterated without the usual Jack hand motions. He wiggled his fingers excessively in unison to every uttered 'sparkly.' It would have been amusing if he hadn't kept doing it after he was done talking.

"You can...stop that now..." I offered, gently shoving Jack's hands away from my face.

"I understand that you seem to think you're entitled to some sort of...compensation...for your troubles," Jack ventured, probably judging by my rather distasteful face. I was not too thrilled with the aspect that Larxene probably was off in a palm tree somewhere witnessing my ownage by my own weapons.

"Compensation would be nice," I agreed. "Seeing as though you just tried to kill me."

"You dwell on the past to much, lad. You should really cut back on that." Jack then leaned dangerously close again and lowered his volume. "I hear it's not healthy."

I didn't bother to remind him I'm dead and therefore am not concerned with trivial things like health, for that would just remind him that he had rightfully beaten me in the previous fight, considering I should currently be ceasing to exist at the moment.

"Anyways," he continued, though not without me heeding mental note of the peculiarlarity of a pirate utilizing the word 'anyways.'

"There is a lassie on me ship."

My interest perked at this sudden dawning of knowledge.

"I'm assuming that's synonymous with the modern term 'girl.'"

"Yes mate," Jack confirmed. "And I remember your plight of singleness back at the docks." I grimaced at the reminder. "Now, unless you managed to get yourself a woman from there," Jack pointed, "to here," Jack pointed again, "perhaps you should tag along and meet the said lassie, savvy?"

I cleared my throat as I mentally prepared the wording for my next awkward question.

"She is human, right?"

Jack gave me the look again, only this time it was straight on.

"Have you been drinking?" he inquired.

"No," I replied honestly. "Have you?"

My question was ignored.

"Yes, she is very much human, even though you are very much...not." Jack scrunched his nose up on the word not. I don't see why. Undead people don't smell.

Now dead people, they smell.

"Is she single?" I tacked on hopefully.

Add that to number two of questions that was ignored. I assumed he didn't hear me, though subconsciously I think I knew otherwise.

"Now if you'll follow me lad," Jack led the way around another set of looming rocks and to a rather grandiose ship. It was big. It was nice. It sat there in the water like a good little duck.

Things on water don't really impress me. I much prefer flying, myself.

But I suppose for a boat, it was decent. Better than the Heart Throb, that's for sure.

Then again, a card board box would be better transportation than the Heart Throb.

Though I must admit, those hideously feminine air bags probably saved my facial structure if nothing else. If not for them, I'd be making a quick pit stop home to have Xigbar set my own nose as well.

Gross.

I'd rather trust the wall to help aide me in the setting of my broken facial structure than that primitive lump of a man.

Regardless, I followed Jack up to the deck of his ship not for his benefit, but more for my own. He promised estrogen infested companionship. I was highly anticipating it.

It was then that I heard a rather shrill scream of frustration leak out of the cabin under deck. In the next following moments, I was graced with the presence of a rather irate looking individual, hair frazzled, nerves fried, and face scrunched up into an unusual looking attempt on a scowl.

Well now, this was certainly attractive.

"Jack!" the female, who I'm assuming was the highly anticipated 'lassie' Jack kept referring to, sputtered in aggravation as she tried to catch her breath. "You told me you would be able to have this done in three days. Three days! Well it's been three days Jack, and I see no sign of my father!"

It was my turn to glance side ways and look skeptically at Jack.

"Daddy's missing," Jack explained gently, trying to play the part of calm and collected hero in the midst of this girl's hysteria.

"For three days!" the girl added intently. All of the sudden, her anxiety attack abruptly stopped as her eyes came to a rest on me. "Who's this?" she demanded in one short, clipped breath.

"He's our honorary co-captain," Jack answered for me. "Since you insisted on Will being left out of the fun."

"If Will knew I was off gallivanting with you in the middle of the night in search of my father he would have never allowed it!"

"Like he hasn't noticed your absence in the past 72 hours," Jack drawled out, sauntering over to the wheel of the boat. His gait was remarkably more steady at sea than on land.

"I already told you, the maid is telling everyone that I have fallen temporarily ill."

"And how long do you think that little charade is going to last?"

I scratched the back of my neck as I stood there and brooded in thought. It's amazing how much you can learn if you just shut up and listen: Dad was gone. Daughter is upset. Daughter seeks aide of pirate (for some reason; motive is still unclear.) Daughter doesn't tell boyfriend because she's afraid of the infamous macho manliness 'don't go it's too dangerous!' line. Interesting.

"Aren't there...like...other people searching for your father?" I ventured.

The girl's head whipped around in my direction. "Excuse me, but was I addressing you?"

"Um...no..." I replied slowly.

"Then don't interrupt."

I think my eye twitched at that one. I resisted the urge to kill her. The urge was strong, mind you, but I ignored it. I think I deserve to be commended.

"You met the Commodore, lad," Jack answered since this female seemed to be incapable, or simply unwilling, to do so. "He has the mental capacity of a three towed sloth."

I assumed three towed sloths weren't known for their astounding intellect.

"So you took matters into your own hands?"

"Do you really need to clarify such obvious matters?" The girl snipped, digging a map out of some random near by bag and rolling it out onto an adjacent table like surface. When the map refused to lie flat, and continued to curl up in revolt, the woman produced a rather well hidden dagger from inside the confines of her dress and proceeded to stab the opposing end unmercifully in an attempt to pin it down as she drove the blade far into the wood.

That was hot.

"I'm assuming she's not always like this," I muttered in Jack's general direction, since I thought it fairly obvious she was only this high strung due to the absence of her father.

"No," Jack replied simply. "This is normal."

Well this was going to be a fun and productive evening.

Jack then chose to pat me comfortingly on my back. "She's all yours, mate," he smirked, and then he steadily made his way over to the far end of the boat to man the steering, leaving me and this rather irate woman to bond at our own expense.

I cleared my throat. I was unsure of how to begin a conversation with such an openly displeased person. Though I must admit, Larxene is not much better.

"So, um, do you have a name?" I questioned, putting my jugular vein on the line.

"Elizabeth," the so-called Elizabeth answered without looking up.

"Can I call you Lizzy?"

My eager suggestion was met with the flattened face of my new comrade.

"No," she responded emphatically. "If I wanted you to call me Lizzy, I would have told you my name was Lizzy, not Elizabeth."

"Well my name's Axel," I blurted, though I sincerely doubted she cared.

The usual look of confusion that most females don after being told my name seemed to pass by more quickly on her than the others. I half expected her to retort with a, 'that's a stupid name' but I suppose the insult was below her.

"So whose side is Jack on anyway?" I dared to continue interrogating.

Elizabeth looked up and quirked an eyebrow. "At the moment?"

I figured that answer would suffice. Perhaps it's best if I didn't know all the inner workings of Jack's mind. I may get confused.

Elizabeth seemed to busy herself in drawing various circles and lines along the map. I was impressed with her determination and focus on finding her father, especially with such an attractive hunk standing beside her. Most normal females would have fallen culprit to desire and thrown themselves at me by now.

Well, unless that female is Belle or Mulan.

But otherwise, I still prefer to think that I have a pretty pleasing exterior.

"You seem really obsessive with finding your parental unit," I observed, leaning on the table so Elizabeth would have no choice but to acknowledge me.

"Wouldn't you be if your father was missing?" she snipped.

I paused. Did I even _have_ a father?

"I guess so," I sheepishly responded. I took it as my cue to leave. I didn't want to be the recipient of another schpiel concerning the value of family and honor.

"Sleep!" I declared, heading off towards the cabin. "Sleep is good."

Elizabeth, with one more pent up sigh of frustration and a good, angry tousle of her hair, followed suit and began to make her way to the cabin as well.

"So who's this Will fellow of yours?" I began, descending the stairs into the lower, danker portions of the boat.

"My...companion," Elizabeth muttered from behind me.

Companion? Why couldn't she just say boyfriend or boy toy like every other normal female? Maybe those words weren't invented in the seventeenth century which, judging by the Commodore's repulsive attempt at a wig, this planet seemed perpetually stuck in.

"Well darling," I cooed, turning around and placing both arms against the two walls of the hallway so Elizabeth couldn't maneuver past me. "You seem to be rather companionless now, don't you?"

There was a moment of silence as Elizabeth slowly digested my attempt at flirtation. After a moment of standing there, gawking at each other, the silence was finally broken as I was promptly greeted with a swift slap across the face.

"You _animal_!" she hissed. I stood there half dazed, attempting to absorb the shock of her open palm. "If you think, that for one _second_—" the dagger Elizabeth was totting around emerged from her dress once again. Right now it was making its home directly under my neck. "That I would ever disgrace myself in such a humiliating way as to succumb to your primitive pleasure and betray William—"

I winced as the knife continued to loom closer to my exposed flesh. This was the first time a female has approached me with the method of violence. Belle attacked me with books and knowledge. Mulan finagled with my emotions and memories. Now I was being attacked by a dagger.

"Then you...you..." Elizabeth seemed to be running out of steam, or at the very least lost her train of though. "You should seriously consider taking some lessons on loyalty!" she finished, rushed.

Well that was an anticlimactic way to end the speech.

As Elizabeth hurried past me, I knew better than to keep playing the part as human wall, I looked over my shoulder and asked, "So I'll take that as a no, you don't want to share a room?"

I was answered with the slamming of a door.

Is it normal to think it's hot when a woman threatens your life?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AN: ARGH! (Vixen smacks head on keyboard repetitively) Never again! Never will I attempt the character of Jack Sparrow again! (Beats upon Johnny Depp.) This chapter ate up, like, hours of my life. This was, by far, the hardest chapter to conceive yet. (Hugs Riku plushie close for comfort.) Hopefully it was enjoyable, and hopefully I succeeded in making at least one of you laugh.

I was debating whether or not to make Jack and Axel "partners in crime" or "the worst of enemies." To be honest, I wasn't sure what way I was going to go; so I chose both. I figured with all of the side switching Jack is notorious of doing, why not have Axel's opinion of him switch eighteen times as well?

Oh, and as a side note: no, I haven't forgotten about our little Flurry's catch phrase. 'Got it memorized' is still scheduled to make an appearance, have no fear. I just want to make sure it originates somewhere amusing.

Another side note: The Mayo Clinic said they would be happy to have me. Of course, the Insurance Company objected, and now we're in the process of appealing to Aetna. So you, my ever so captive audience, have the pleasure of receiving more chapters from me until this money issue is all settled out.

Now it's time for something happy: COOKIES!

(Again: these are in the order they were left, no favorites, so nobody hurt me.)

(Gives Padfoot some oatmeal raisin cookies for appreciating Axel's personality)

(Gives The Writer a macadamia nut cookie and some books for relating to Belle and appreciating the chapter.)

(Throws Chips Ahoy at Xonelel for her amusing comment about Belle and Mulan being too 'goody goody' for Axel...LOL)

(Hands Anime Dutchess a bag of _singing_ Oreos for her thoughtful review and appreciation of previously given cookies.)

(Gives Rhain a handful of ginger snap cookies for her amazing review and hugs her for taking the time to pinpoint all the different things she enjoyed in the chapter. Also, hands her some bonus chocolate chips for making me laugh with the 'if Axel didn't insult her, then he wouldn't be Axel' line. That was classic.)

(Hands Shizuka some vanilla wafers for her review and for mentioning Olette. I still wonder where Square Enix came up with the name Olette.)

(Smothers Constance with her usual blessing of cookies and candy for leaving another custom lengthy review and for screaming upon seeing the update. Here's an extra Fig Newton for making me laugh out loud at the thought of Larxene and Axel ripping each other's heads off.)

(Vixen falls over at another volumous response from Hope. Grinning, hands Hope eighteen sugar cookies and a hug. I especially enjoyed the comment concerning Lexaeus being misconceived as a meat head and Loz being a molester.)

(Gives Nocturnal gingerbread cookies for appreciating previous cookies and for having schizophrenic reactions to my chapter: 'aw poor Axel' vs 'laughing out loud.' That mental image made me giggle.)

(Hands Silver Sniper a bucketful of pistachio cookies for noting (and commending) correct grammar and sarcasm. WEE! Such things make Vixen happy.)

(Gives extra chocolate chip cookies to Story Weaver for accidentally referring to he as a she (sorry about that) and hands him some extra icing for referring to Axel's Organization family as dysfunctional. That made me laugh.)

(Hands Senbazuru a box full of coconut cookies for making me double over giggling due to referring to me as 'maniacal, devious, twisted, warped, and brilliant.' I simply adore the hamsters you bestowed upon me, and in return shall bestow an equally as generous supply of coconut cookies. Please enjoy. I think I lost weight because I laughed so hard at your amusing review.)

(Gives Golden Memories another personalized cookie for appreciating the one I gave her before and for noting that Mulan was in character and Axel was just '...Axel.' LOL.)

(Dumps a truck load of peanut butter cookies at Erik's feet for the exceedingly benevolent review that flattered me to the point where I felt like crying tears of joy. (Hugs Erik) Here, have some fudge to go with the cookies. I liked your comments concerning the rather eccentric relationship Axel has with Larxene. Very insightful, very amusing. Have some more fudge.)

(Hands Lady Keyblade a yummy smore for her review.)

Is that everybody? I think I got everybody! Woot!

(Falls over and dies from exhaustion.)

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	8. Port Royal Part Two

I have here by determined my brother is absolutely insane. I was awaken by the infamous Mario the other morning. He woke me up at 11:00 AM by barging into my room and singing the pirates theme song at the top of his puny little lungs. He then proceeded to stand there and belt out choruses until I obliged to rise from bed. When I didn't, and simply answered his not so subtle hinting by throwing a pillow over my head, he went on to remove the covers from my bed and throw my comforter on the floor. At this point, he is lucky to have kept his life. However, I eventually obeyed (obviously) and here I am to present you with another twenty something page chapter. Enjoy.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I'm hungry. This is all I can think about, and this is all that matters

Partly I believe such famish is due to my inability to digest whatever is served to me (though digesting it really isn't the issue, it's more like I can't get the food to my mouth) but partly I believe the relentless bout of sea sickness Jack's unforgiving driving has so unmercifully blessed me with wasn't helping matters either.

Half of the rice patty was staring straight back at me from its lovely splattered position on the cabin floor.

How pleasant.

I really wished I was able to fall asleep amidst all the tumbling of the cabin. I abhorred staying in that perpetual state between blissful sleep and hazy awareness. When I find myself in such a semiconscious mentality, my mind tends to wander, something that is not good for such a naturally contemplative person such as myself. Usually, when lying in that perpetual state of insomnia I had been plagued with ever since Roxas went all emo on us, I can't help but have my thoughts travel to my rather less than pleasant ponderings and fond recollections. Sometimes it's the memories that do me in. And the fact that they are so fond and amusing makes it even worse. If my past memories didn't provoke that warm tingly feeling in my gut, I'd have no reason to miss them.

I rolled over to my left side.

"_What are you doing?"_

"_Eating peaches, stupid."_

"_Roxas, you eat peaches with a spoon, not a fork."_

"_Axel! How am I supposed to get the peaches without a fork?"_

"_How are you supposed to get the peach juice without a spoon?"_

I rolled over to my right side.

"_I hate the smell of nail polish remover."_

"_Well then it's a good thing you don't have to use it, now isn't it Roxas?"_

"_Larxene uses it. It annoys me. I'm throwing it out the window."_

I rolled over on my back.

"_Hey, Axel, lookie lookie! Who am I supposed to be?"_

"_Roxas, you have a mop on your head."  
_

"_Yeah, I know, but guess who I'm supposed to be!"_

"_..."_

"_Zexion!"_

I rolled over onto my stomach.

"_I hate my keyblade."_

"_And why is that, pray tell?"_

"_Because it's stupid looking. It makes me look like a janitor on steroids."_

My right side again.

"_Hey Axel, I know technically I'm not supposed to, like, be able to like people and stuff, but can I still call you my best friend?"_

Left side.

"_...can I call you my best friend?"_

Back.

"_...best friend?"_

Stomach.

"_...friend?"_

It was at this moment I noticed a very moist substance was starting to cloud my vision. I was confused that I was at a lack of what to call this phenomenon. Saline started to build up in the corners of my eyes and overflow to trickle down my cheeks. And then I started this odd action of habitually sucking oxygen through my nose in rapid succession.

Was this crying?

I'm not supposed to be doing this anymore.

But I am. And it makes no sense.

Ashamed at my unmanly tears, I brashly whipped them away with the sleeve of my uniform and hurriedly sat up in bed. This was ridiculous. Roxas wasn't sobbing over me. Roxas isn't even giving me two seconds thought. Roxas doesn't even know I exist.

I prayed fervently that Larxene was not witnessing this spectacle.

It was at that moment I decided I had to do something diabolical to take my mind off it. Ergo, I started to make my way to Elizabeth's room in hopes that I would catch a glimpse of something I shouldn't.

I'm a villain. I'm entitled.

As I sauntered down the shaky hallway with the intent of spying on the much talked about 'lassie,' I ran my sleeve over my face one final time before commencing my escapade. I realized this would probably not fix the blotchiness that ensued after the saline episode, but I did it more for peace of mind than conventional purposes.

I was elated, well, as elated as a man could be after leaking on his pillow, to see that Elizabeth had left the door slightly ajar. Of course, she had previously slammed it in my face, but perhaps she had made a midnight trip to the john or some such thing.

I took the crack as an invitation to look inside.

There was the temperamental, infamous governor's daughter, sprawled out on her bed by the feeble light of the candle scribbling away in a journal or some such nonsense. I blinked a couple times before the fact registered: human girls keep journals. It's just something they do. I thought I caught Larxene in the act once but she vehemently denies it. When I persisted interrogation concerning the matter, I was greeted with a lovely string of vilifications and a threat on my life, my genitals, and any future children I may have. That was until I kindly reminded her that I required the aide of a female to produce the aforementioned offspring and she was the only one available. She them promptly settled on kicking my external reproductive organs and left the threats on the back burner.

Needless to say, I never questioned Larxene's writing habits further.

That memory alone was almost enough to scare me back to my room, for Elizabeth and Larxene had a lot in common as far as dealing with me was concerned. I pondered the question of returning to bed, at least I did until I realized the alternative would involve more Roxas mourning and saline dripping and I didn't feel like engaging in either of the other two substitute activities.

I scratched my neck in confusion as I stood there befuddled.

"Axel, I know you're standing there," Elizabeth sighed, not even bothering so much as to turn around.

My eyes widened simultaneously in surprise.

"Aw, you're no fun Lizzy," I dripped in mock disappointment. Though I would have preferred if she had not noticed my presence until I had gotten a glimpse of something more sensual, I seriously doubted she was going to be doing anything that fit into the former category while writing in that stupid journal.

"I recognized your foul stench from all the way over here," Elizabeth remarked in her usual haughty, over punctuated matter. "And don't call me Lizzy."

"Lizzy." I threw in for effect.

I was ignored.

I figured, given the audacious persona I was ever so famous for, I let myself into the room and bravely sat down on the hammock across from Elizabeth's bed.

"You writing about Will?" I ventured, smirking while doing so.

Elizabeth glanced sideways at me. "What is it to you if I am?"

"Not much," I admitted, stretching my arms out boldly like I owned the place. "Except I never would have guessed such a brazenly independent female such as yourself would find the goody goody momma's boy so insanely attractive."

I honestly did not know if Will was a momma's boy. But if he had fallen culprit to the infamous 'don't go, it's too dangerous' line, then he couldn't have been to nonconventional.

If I tried to pull a line like that on Larxene? She'd go just to spite me.

Which is kind of what was happening now.

"Oh please," Elizabeth drawled, twirling her quill pen around on her finger. "You're not exactly a delinquent yourself."

My head shot up. I wanted to snip out, 'hey, I kill things for a living!' but that's not exactly something you're supposed to be proud of.

So I settled on a very original, "Wait...what?"

Elizabeth sniggered. "You go around trying to act all tough guy-ish and flirtatious when in reality you wouldn't hurt a fly."

I felt like correcting her: yes, I would hurt a fly. It's the singing broccoli that I have a hard time harming.

"You find me hot," I smirked, trying to cover up the perceptiveness of her comment with a sly one of my own. "Admit it."

I was attempting to throw her off guard just as much as she had me, but it seemed to be an endeavor in vain.

"Alright," Elizabeth agreed, stroking the bottom of her dainty chin with the feather of her writing utensil. Her eyes seemed fixated on some far off point of focus and the corners of her mouth were quirked at the corners.

If I didn't know any better, I would say she was plotting something.

"What if I did?" she blurted, smiling in spite of her awkward question. She sat up in her bed abruptly, letting the journal close in on itself and the quill pen rest peacefully on top of the cover.

"What if you did what?"

"What if I did say that I find you exceedingly attractive?"

I paused in shocked uncertainty. This was not the reaction I was expecting.

"I mean, that is what you want me to say, isn't it?" she inquired, rising from her previous placement on the bed and beginning to advance towards me ever so slowly.

"I...well...um...yeah, that would be nice," I stuttered, my tongue feeling thick and unfamiliar in my own mouth.

"So if I were to say that Will simply didn't matter anymore," she continued in a seductive manner, "and I was completely whisked away by your ravishing charm and dashing persona," I found myself instinctively inching backwards until my back was firmly against the wall. "And that perhaps, upon giving it further consideration, I wouldn't mind sharing a room tonight..."

Elizabeth was practically on top of me now, looming over my rigid disposition on her hammock.

I swallowed in anticipation of what was to come next.

"...then maybe, just maybe..."

If I had a heart, my pulse would have risen significantly.

"...we could..."

My palms exuded enough sweat to extinguish a fire.

"...perhaps become a little better acquainted..."

"GAH! No!" I hollered sporadically, surprising even myself with my sudden display of morals. I lurched backwards so violently that I consequently toppled off the hammock in response. "That's not loyalty!" I found myself flailing around on the hard wood floor trying desperately to get to my shaky feet again, which were already unsteady enough as it was.

I tried to wobble to my legs so I could make a mad dash for the exit, but I was greeted by the heel of Elizabeth's foot as it came crashing down on my chest and pinned me against the floor.

"See?" she questioned, arching a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "You are a good boy."

Under normal circumstances, I would have seized the opportunity to look up Elizabeth's night gown, but this time I averted my gaze and continued my quest for the door.

I eventually managed to scramble my way to the threshold and promptly threw myself into the hallway.

Elizabeth was directly behind me, door in hand and amused expression donning her sultry features.

"Think twice before flirting with me again," she threw out in a saucy tone. "Savvy?"

With that, she slammed the door. Again.

I stood there, leaning against the opposite wall for support, and slowly began to regain my bearings and make my way back to my room.

I couldn't believe I exemplified virtues back there. I couldn't believe I said no to what I had been on this moronic quest for the entire time. Isn't that exactly what I wanted? Isn't that exactly what I was trying to get Elizabeth to admit?

At the very least, I could have acted cool about it and sat there unflinching until the tension got so high that Elizabeth would have no choice but to eventually back down, unless she wanted to follow through with her promiscuous plans, and she could be the one to take the fall of humiliation instead of me.

But no. I'm the one who spazed.

It made sense, though. It wasn't fair to William. Granted, Elizabeth must have been anticipating my reaction from the start. But I couldn't sit there and screw over a man who didn't deserve to be screwed.

I meant that metaphorically.

So, while it was crystal clear why it was an issue of loyalty to Elizabeth, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out whom, exactly, it was _I_ felt the urge to be loyal to.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I was awakened by a rather cruel procession of agitating knocks originating from the other side of my bed room door. I lurched awake, not expecting my wake up call to take on the form of an intruder. I was more accustomed to rising to the sound of Demyx singing his vocal chords out in the kitchen.

"Mate! Wakie wakie! Jack's got a question!"

I threw the pillow over my head. Not in the mood.

"It's urgent!"

The knocks continued. If this kept up, the door was just going to cave in.

"What?" I snapped from under the protective cover of the sheets. I was sick. I missed Roxas. And I just passed up the opportunity to give Elizabeth Swann a hickey. I did not want to be bothered.

Jack, who is persistent to say the least, continued his clamorous ruckus until, eventually, he did succeed in making the door give way and I was the recipient of a flying bundle of black hair and artistic clothing that was sprawled poetically at my bed side.

"Can I help you?" I drawled out, lifting the pillow ever so slightly so I could witness the spectacle Jack was destined to make out of everyday normal conversation.

"There's a lad out there," Jack began to explain, the sunlight streaming through the cabin window drenching the pirate in an out of place heavenly glow. "He's in a sparkly ship like yours, only it's not...sparkly..."

I scrunched my nose up in response.

Of course, Jack has fallen victim to frivolous hand motions yet again and ceased to know when to stop.

"What are you talking about?"

Jack pointed over head. "There's a man up there."

"And why does this concern me?" I grunted, turning back over trying to sleep.

"He's got the Daddy."

I paused. Well now, this was just great.

I suppose such matters warranted me arising from bed. I stumbled to my feet, feeling sick to my stomach but having nothing left to retch out, and followed Jack—who practically floated up the stairs—to the main deck to greet this apparent daddy stealing terrorist.

I could hear the somewhat familiar trickles of a far off voice floating down the hallway as I desperately tried to scamper out of it.

"Let me go you inconsiderate buffoon!"

"Hey-yy, stop gnawing at my coat! This is Gucci, do you have any earthly idea how expensive it is to replace this?"

I paused momentarily. Strange sounding villain. Then again, I suppose I wasn't much better.

As I ascended the creaky, foul smelling stairs, I was immediately bombarded with the ridiculous amount of sunshine that was pouring forth from the skies. Such things did not do wonders for my headache, and I felt like I was undergoing a hangover regardless of the fact I had nothing to drink last night.

Once my eyes had adjusted, I could do nothing but sit there in awe and wonder at the mother load of a gummi ship that was displayed before me. I knew Saix had always been an obsessive compulsive when it came to the rather intimidating decor of his seldom used transportation, but the thing looked big enough to be its own third world nation. It was a black painted monster gleaming sinisterly in the over bearing sunlight, twin nuclear missiles attached to either side of the rather graciously designed cockpit. The windshield, of course, was tinted for privacy I didn't exactly think Saix required (unless he was fooling around with other members of the undead...something I could never foresee happening due to the fact Larxene would rather eat her own weight in broken glass than come within three feet of a naked Saix.)

Unless, of course, Saix had something he wasn't telling us and was making it with Marluxia.

But I seriously doubt Saix had his windows tinted for promiscuous reasons.

Regardless, the front jutted out almost to the point where it was colliding with Jack's ship. A metallic plank was extended to gain further access to a much less intimidating mode of transportation, as was clearly evident when the two entities were floating side by side.

The epitome of sheekness completely demolishing the rag tag bath tub toy that looked ready to keel over and sink at any moment. I'd say we were at a fair disadvantage.

Of course, much to my utter amazement, who should be standing at the front of this exceedingly manly over equipped battle ship?

Demyx. And his stupid blue sitar.

I have but two words to say: Dramatic. Irony.

"It's not that hard to bring that little snitch up here!" Demyx called from his perch on the end of the plank, securely holding what I presumed to be Elizabeth's highly sought after Daddy in the midst of his rather pathetic attempt at a head lock. "I'd just like to have a little word with her before I hand her precious father over, that's all."

"But the question is: why do you have him in the first place?" Jack posed, taking a rather leisurely stance leaning on the wheel of the ship.

"I already told you," Demyx began in a tired tone. "She had no right to turn me down for a drink!"

"It's not her fault she already has a male companion!" her father sputtered out from his odd position under Demyx's arm.

"Yeah, but she didn't have to threaten my life and then proceed to _slap_ me!" Demyx retorted, his grip tightening on the father's neck. The pudgy man's legs flailed as out a result.

"Aw, poor little Demyx, did she leave a mark on your precious little baby face?" I cooed from the threshold, trying to make my grip on it seem casual and cool when in reality I was only holding onto the stupid thing just so I wouldn't fall over onto my face.

Demyx's eyes narrowed to twin vertical slits as he slowly registered my presence on the ship. He was so caught up in his soliloquy to Jack Sparrow he scarcely realized his new arch enemy was within a two foot radius.

"_You_," he hissed, his arm twitching convulsively. At this point Mr. Governor began to turn purple due to lack of oxygen.

"Yes, me," I clarified.

"You stole my baby!" the musician hollered, his left eye twitching in sync with the aforementioned proclamation.

"Aye, mate, you're into baby snatching?" Jack questioned from behind the wheel.

"I stole his _ship_," I corrected.

"So you _did_ steal it!" Jack accused triumphantly. "You little liar!" He put the previous line forward with a smirk on his face, almost as if he were proud of my anarchist behavior.

"Well, technically I borrowed without asking." I looked back at Demyx. "I was planning on returning it, ya know."

"Well I certainly don't see it!" the sitar played countered, swiftly scanning the horizon.

"That's because it's not here," I supplied. "I left it docked at Port Royal."

"You left it unsupervised?" Demyx screeched, his voice shattering my delicate ear drums.

"Trust me mate," Jack interjected. "No one is going to steal it."

"But she's going to miss her bath time!" my fellow undead continued to rant, apparently appalled by the notion of his beloved ship not being washed on schedule, because god forbid it lose any of its confounded shimmer.

"_She's_ sitting in water," I assured him, taking careful heed to emphasis the female pronoun Demyx continuously utilized when referring to his inanimate ship. "I don't think she'll need to be washed anytime soon."

"But it's salt water! The paint will start to flake if I don't rescue her!"

"Well you better take care of that, then," Jack threw out, interrupting this very tear jerking scene as we pondered the fate of the blessed Heart Throb. "Why don't we take that sputtering piece of flab off your hands for now, savvy?"

I assumed he was referring to Mr. Governor, who had now passed out due to the spasms Demyx's hands had previously gone through.

Seeming to forget about the bone he had to pick with Elizabeth, he threw the man on the floor of the ship and proceeded to summon a portal of darkness.

"I'm not through with you," he warned before entering.

"Be still, my heart," I dead panned.

With a final glare, Demyx disappeared into the warp he had hastily created, which promptly there after closed behind him.

So Jack and I were left with one unconscious daddy and a massively huge ship at our disposal.

"Well mate," Jack began, breaking the awkward silence. "Looks like you just got yourself a new ship."

Score.

As I began to saunter over to the passed out parental figure, Elizabeth Swann chose now to make her unprecedented appearance.

She took one look at her collapsed father, one look at the monster ship, and one look at me, and then swiftly exposed her precious dagger and started to charge towards me.

"I didn't do it!" I sputtered, inching away from the pointy object being directed at my face. This girl seemed to think she could conquer the world and vanquish evil all with the aid of a stupid little knife.

"No, he didn't," Jack agreed. "But he did seem to be fairly well acquainted with the person who did."

"Thanks Jack," I replied sarcastically, shooting him a death glare over my shoulder.

Jack smiled and waved.

The next thing I knew I was the recipient of another one of Elizabeth's overly used slaps, only this time I received one on the opposite cheek.

"Well, at least now I'm even," I muttered, watching as she ran to her father's side and desperately tried to nurse him back to health. Eventually the pudgy old man came to and his daughter was able to usher him down to the cabin for further care.

I knew the guy couldn't be too badly hurt if he was being held hostage by Demyx.

Well, unless he was sang to.

Then we may have sanity issues to worry about.

But otherwise, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that all this worry was for naught and Elizabeth's father would be absolutely fine.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Dinner. Family style. Not a good idea.

This is what I have concluded upon sitting down to dine with my three ship mates. While I was eager to put something in my stomach, I didn't do so without first judging how tasty it would be when it came back up, as it most definitely would. I instinctively reached for the potatoes, for they have always been my most sought after favorite, regardless of their position on the food pyramid, but quickly thought otherwise when I realized potatoes were rather foul and discolored when regurgitated.

Then again, isn't everything?

"So who shall say grace?" Elizabeth inquired, looking around the table for a willing participant.

Jack immediately started shaking his head, mumbling something about being embarrassed, and then hastily pointed in my general direction as a hint.

You have got to be kidding me.

Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow as a dare, and I knew I was doomed.

"Um...alright," I muttered, not wanting to disappoint. Her father was beaming all smiles, still blissfully unaware of my rather eccentric way of wording things...let alone things that were supposed to be sacred.

I watched as everyone closed their eyes and bowed their heads.

"Er...dear God," I began, not used to partitioning the almighty at the dinner table. Xemnas never required such, and it didn't seem to be an issue with Xigbar or Vexen. Though, for the life of me, I can't imagine how that prayer would go.

Dear God: Please aid us in world domination. Amen.

"Um...thank you for blessing us with your god like super powers and helping us defeat the evil sitar player from hell..."

I watched Mr. Governor's face contort into an odd shut eyed scowl.

"...and thank you for blessing me with the presence of the beautiful fallen angel Elizabeth Swann..."

This seemed to appease the governor's twisted face; but made Elizabeth snarl instead.

"...thank you for keeping Jack out of jail and alive..."

I paused. How was I supposed to end this?

"...and please let William Turner drown at sea. Amen."

I received a rather mortally wounding kick under the table. I almost let out a string of violent mollifications but figured that was slightly out of place after such a...devout...prayer.

"That was very...interesting," the governor remarked upon closing. I smiled like I was expecting the compliment. Though the term compliment could be substituted with other, more appropriate words.

"Everything that comes out of his mouth is interesting," Elizabeth chided.

With the grace being said, the four of us began to dig into our meals, of course I knew this wasn't going to be the last time I saw mine. Regardless, I counted my blessings and thanked The Almighty that my mashed potatoes were not, indeed, singing.

"So," the governor began, trying to fill in the odd gap of awkward silence. "Axel, was it?"

"Yes," I confirmed, busying myself rearranging the food on my plate. This couldn't be heading anywhere good.

"What is it you do for a living?"

I stopped my spoon mid jab. I could have some fun with this one.

I suppose I could have just answered pirate, and that would have sufficed, but instead I opted to go the more dramatic route. Maybe just the fact that knowing half of this man's genes helped create the monster commonly known as Elizabeth was enough to push me over the edge.

"Well," I breathed out, leaning close. "I like to kill small innocent children."

Which, of course, is a blatant lie. Luxord kills the small innocent children. I get my kicks out of vanquishing disobeying Heartless.

Besides, you have no right to scorn me for my previous answer. It's what every young man is dying to say to his date's parents but simply lacks the balls to.

Aw, come on. You can't tell me you haven't felt the urge to lean across the dinner table, right across all the expensive china the family so painstakingly set up, and whisper in the father's ear—who is sweating like a pig and glaring vehemently due to fears that you are going to be the one to deflower his daughter—that you derive great pleasure from satisfying your blood lust.

Well, I've felt the urge, anyway.

Not that getting parental permission for dates is something we dead people are concerned with, but I'm sure in my previous life I probably scared the tar out of a few well meaning fathers when I showed up at their daughter's door step.

Spiky red hair that looks like you just got done frenching an electrical socket isn't always the best way to make a first impression.

Well, a good one anyway.

"Come again?" the father beckoned, pretending not to hear me.

"Aye, the lad said he likes to help poor defenseless children," Jack bellowed from the opposite end of the constantly shifting table. "He's real big on his charity work."

I could have sworn I heard a muted Larxene scuffle from somewhere in the shadows but I wasn't sure.

"Aw, how pleasant, you do charity work?" the governor proceeded to inquire. I winced. If I weren't already dead, I would have assumed this show case would have reserved me a permanent spot in hell.

"Um...yeah, sure," I lied, watching Elizabeth's face slowly contort into a series of undefined scowls and glares. "I especially enjoy humoring the rather homely girls of my generation. Ya know, female insecurity is such a big issue now adays, I can't help but want to make them feel better about themselves by a flirtatious remark or two."

"Oh bugger." Jack grumbled as he cradled his forehead in his hand.

Elizabeth's left eye twitched, and she then slammed her chair against the back wall of the dining quarter and proceeded to march outside onto the main deck in a cloister of aggravated sighs and muttered profanities.

Drama queen.

"Oh dear, was she feeling a tad bit ill?" the governor asked. I decided I was better off not answering the question directly.

"Why don't I go check on her?" I offered generously. After all, charity is my main line of work.

"That would be so terribly kind of you."

"Aw, don't worry about it. Benevolency is just the avenue of response that I chose to pursue."

"What a load of turd," Jack grumbled under his breath.

I responded by expertly kicking his chair out from under him upon passing by.

Hypocrisy, anyone?

Regardless, I moseyed on up the stairs leading to the upper deck and commenced my search for my irate companion that probably wanted to gorge my eyeballs out right about now.

"Elizabeth, sweetheart," I cooed from the opposite side of the ship. I was half expecting that beloved dagger of hers to make another accursed appearance as she lunged for my neck (for purposes other than a hickey) but she seemed content with just glaring at me in her silence.

I met her stony cold gaze with my own.

"You deserved that," I spat out bluntly.

You can't pin a guy against a wall and then proceed to step on him and expect him not to seek revenge. Well, at least if he has no soul. Which I didn't. So I don't see the problem.

"Why you little—"

As she approached me, I was able to anticipate the much too obvious impending slap and caught her bony extremity within my grasp.

"_Don't_ do that again," I warned.

Right as I was starting to feel my hands grow dangerously hot, I was promptly sent hurtling off my feet when a neatly aimed cannonball collided with the side of the ship. I clamored to the side and peered over the impending edge to come face to face with a fastly approaching ship led by some over ecstatic guy wildly proclaiming, "There she is, there she is! That confounded clown head's got her!"

_Clown head?_

Aw, come on. Even I was disappointed in the lack of creativity in that one. Man whore was much more original. I'll have to commend Larxene on her eccentricity when I got back home.

"Will!" Elizabeth gasped, flushing immediately and swooning there after.

Mortal girls confused me sometimes.

"_That's_ Will?" I muttered. He looked like he'd be more at home modeling Calvin Klein in a glossy, over priced magazine than rummaging through the high seas in a barely buttoned shirt and dangerously tight pants.

Then again, Calvin Klein models were notorious for their barely buttoned camisoles and suction cup jeans.

To be truly heinous, Will climbed on top of the roped net that was swinging precariously from the sails and dangled from a single handed grasp as the ships loomed closer and closer together in proximity. To avert my line of vision from the nauseatingly good boy charisma of my impending foe, I glanced downwards to assess the damage of the boat I was standing on. The hole was made above sea level, so at least I would not have to try my expertise at swimming anytime soon.

By the time I looked up again, Mr. Goody Goody was swinging in on a rope and I had to dodge his barricading body just to maintain a normal facial structure.

Will landed directly in front of me; both feet planted firmly on ground, and directed a rather lengthy sword at my carotid artery.

What is it with these people and foreign pointy objects?

"Hand the lady over, and no one gets hurt," Will warned, taking on a fencing stance and raising one hand in the air. He looked like he was about to sporadically break out in a waltz as opposed to a fight.

"She's right behind you stupid," I muttered, pointing to indicate the passed out Elizabeth Swann now sprawled out on the floor of the ship.

"What..." Will sputtered. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. She fainted. Dehydration. I hear it's very common on the seas."

It was at this moment a handful of very pathetic looking men started to leak over onto Jack's boat, scavenging the area for any other evil doing pirates they could sink their knives into.

"So it looks like I'll have to fight you for her then," Will stated, oozing confidence and cocking a eyebrow in superiority.

I blinked in response.

"I don't recall saying I wanted to fight," I stated slowly.

"En gaurde!"

I shot my hands up instinctively. "No, no! By all means, take her! You can have the wrench, I certainly don't want her."

Will's delicately thin lip curved upwards in a pretty boy snarl. Such gestures were not so intimidating on him.

"You're really set on this fighting thing, aren't you?" I noted, smirking at the amusement of the situation. This bimbo didn't realize all he had to do was turn around and take her.

"Your pillaging stops here!"

You have _got_ to be kidding me.

"Very well then," I sighed, in a tedious tone. "Have it your way." I shot my hands out to the side simultaneously and summoned my glistening chakrams of destruction. My head shot up in unison with my widely evident smirk that was now gracing half my face. Flames began to dance around me as I summoned the appropriate background effects. "Just don't come crying to me when I kick you ass."

Will's eyes widened in unison as he witnessed my deadly spectacle of pyrotechnics. I began to advance forward, impending on his circle of comfort.

"En gaurde?" I suggested slyly. It wasn't enough to metaphorically stick the knife in his chest; I had to twist it.

It was at this moment Will abandoned all pretenses of fighting fairly and charged at me with his pointy sword of doom aimed directly at my non existing heart.

Instead of frying him, like I should have done, I allowed him this small pleasure of attempting to kill me. I almost contemplated playing dead so he's leave me alone, except there would be a total lackage of blood and therefore the act would be entirely nonconvincing. So I simply stood there as Will lodged his sword into my thoracic region, and smiled contently when he paled in response.

"Nice try," I drawled out as the sword wavered with the wind.

Just as Will looked as though he were ready to emit a scream, Mr. Governor came hurtling out of the dining cabin with a bug eyed Jack Sparrow hot on his tail.

"What is going on here?" he demanded in a voice commanding authority.

My face slacked when I realized I was standing there with a sword sticking out of my chest, two blazing chakrams at my side, and a circle of dancing flames surrounding me on the deck of the boat.

The Governor looked at me, blinked, and opted to say nothing.

Smart man.

"William Turner!" he cried.

"Are you injured sir?" Will inquired, rushing over to his side. "Was this clown holding you hostage too?"

"I am not a clown," I threw out from my secluded spot, but no one heard me.

"No, no, Axel wasn't holding anyone hostage. He's into charity work."

I smirked at Will's bewildered expression.

"...oh."

"He actually rescued me," the governor continued to explain.

"...ohhh," Will repeated.

"Told you it was dehydration," I snarled as I marched past him, intentionally knocking shoulders with him on the way.

The reminder of such an ailment seemed to remind William of the girl he was so intent on saving seconds prior.

"Elizabeth!" he cried out in melodramatic tones. Spare me the mush. I wasn't into witnessing the touching reunion.

All seemed well. Daddy was back. Will and Elizabeth were busy playing googly eyes. The accursed Heart Throb was returned. I had helped pirate the ship Jack was so intent on having me aid him with, although I didn't exactly do very much. All missions were accomplished. I decided it was time for me to move on. With the Commodore on my tail, this town didn't exactly seem like the place to set up camp and hunt out an appropriate mate. There were other places to see, other women to woo. Port Royal would just have to wait with baited breath for my return.

"I think I'm gonna head out now," I whispered to Jack as I began to saunter towards my newly acquired ship.

Jack's eyes seemed fixated on a far off object, and when I followed his intent line of vision I saw that he was glaring at another incoming pirate ship. Confused, I quirked an eyebrow and turned his skeptical gaze against him.

"They your friends?" I asked, nudging him slightly so he'd acknowledge me.

"No," he replied. "That's Balbossa's crew."

I paused momentarily, wondering if I should question further. His seething facial expression told me no, but I'm not too astute on picking up on non vocal cues.

"Um...bad guys?"

"Yeah. Dead, like you."

I smiled a little in apprehension. "Really?" I pressed. "Any girls?"

"Nope."

"Ah, count me out then," I replied, entering the adjacent ship. I figured Will and his interesting rag tag crew of do gooders could hold them off.

I leaped into the cockpit and started up the engine. "Have fun!" I called over the roar of the initial blast. Jack waved at me through the windshield.

"You kidding me mate? This is what I _live_ for."

Ah. Fitting.

As I make my shaky ascent into the sky (for Saix's ship was much bulkier than the nimble, fleeting Heart Throb) I began to cross over what seemed to be a rather daunting opposing foe, for this so called Balbossa's ship was a force to be reckoned with.

While I must admit I didn't particularly care for whatever happened to Elizabeth, I felt a twinge of sympathy for the governor and decided releasing one of Saix's beloved missiles couldn't hurt. I promptly hit a big red button labeled "MISSLE" (Saix is not too astute sometimes) and watched in satisfaction as it torpedoed down onto the unexpecting horde of the undead.

There were explosions. There was screaming. There was mayhem.

Oh how I love being the cause of destruction.

With that lovely view of chaos in mind, I flew out of Port Royal basking in the lovely glory that I was able to escape the planet without another dreadful, dramatic break up speech.

Because Lord knows Elizabeth's would have involved slapping.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Adjusting to the new ship was quite the phenomenon. The interior was not bright and bubbly as the Heart Throb's was. In fact, there was scarcely any color at all. Everything was black. It was rather depressing.

I was being swallowed whole by the immensely extravagant driver's seat I found myself reclining in. I felt like the head of some ritzy executive office. I don't know what kind of life Saix led before he died, but rest assured, his power trip didn't disappear along with his heart.

The buttons were all bluntly labeled, as opposed to the neon color coding Demyx so dependently relied on. The missile button was labeled MISSILES. The pressure controls were labeled PRESSURE. The door maintenance was labeled DOORS, and so on and so forth.

Of course, there was on particular button that caught my eye. The button on the side of the driver's seat, one commonly placed in all gummi ships for cases of emergency landing, was the seat ejection button appropriately named EJACULATION.

It was settled. If I crashed I was going down with the ship.

My stomach was gnawing at me, aching for something to eat. I started to poke through the various compartments lying around the dash board for something to nibble on, for my pocketed potato had already been consumed on the way to Beast's Castle.

I did not know what to call the ship, for it had no hot pink title embezzled on its side. I started to search for some sort of clue as to what to refer to thing as. All pilots name their ship at one point or another. When I received mine I did not have a burst of inspiration and come up with some witty title for it to become infamous by. Instead, after weeks of procrastination, and hours of incessant Roxas nagging, I promptly started referring to it as simply 'Mine.' I'd always ask, 'Where's Mine?' or 'I have to go fix Mine.' Of course, this was until Roxas started leeching off my gas and stealing rides with me, the lazy notorious bum that he is, and after such things became habit, he started to call the gummi ship 'Ours.'

Eh. Maybe it's a good thing it burned up at Pride Rock. I didn't need to see the sharpie scribbled word 'Ours' printed out in thick bold lettering across the dash board. Roxas was eccentric to say the least.

Anyway. My quest for the name continued.

While rummaging through the glove compartment adjacent to the control panel, I found the inner lining had a name stitched in white cursive along the side.

'The Darkness.'

Oh you have got to be crapping me. Even I expected more originality out of Saix than that. I mean, such corniness out of Demyx was expected, but Saix? I was definitely going to need to have a word with him when I got home.

Located in this aforementioned glove compartment was a tiny leather bound notebook I couldn't help but feel the urge to nose through.

I'm bad. I know.

I flipped open to the first page and found a title scribbled in black ink 'My Bleeding Heart: A Compilation of Poems. Composed By Saix.'

Oh dear heavens.

I snickered through the entire thing. His poetry was nothing more than a waste of ink and paper. Mother Nature would be appalled. As was I, upon reading ten pages worth of literary crap.

o-o

Mere Nothingness

I am nothing at all

Nobody picks me up when I fall

I sit here with silent screams

I am happy only in my dreams

How can any of this be real?

How I long for the days I could feel

Woe is me and my demise

I am living one big lie

Like this, how can I prevail?

In his former life, Axel's name was Ale

o-o

I think Saix ran out of steam on that last line.

I threw the 'Bleeding Heart' back down on the dash board.

"Saix's heart couldn't bleed," I muttered. "He doesn't have one."

What a stupid name. What a stupid poem. What a stupid book. He couldn't even utilize proper rhythm and syllable counts.

Aw crap. I just sounded like Belle.

Even Dance Across The Friggin Moon Spring was better than this.

At a loss of what to do with Saix's 'Bleeding Heart,' I started to gaze around the room for inspiration.

I had noticed upon entering the ship that there was a lack of toilet paper. I needed to utilize the laboratory shortly after leaving Port Royal and was dismayed to discover the lack of necessities in the bathroom. In response to such, I calmly picked up Saix's poetry book and walked over to the bathroom once again. I gently placed the notebook on the side of the sink for future cleansing purposes.

I, for one, intended on maintaining my personal hygiene.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

For the first time I was not asleep with I heard the portal of darkness split open behind me. I was tinkering with the holographic map, which was scarily hard to find compared to Demyx's and considerably harder to manage.

My ears perked up at the sound of the much anticipated Larxene.

"Hello my darling," I cooed, not bothering to turn around as I sat hunched over the stupid holograms.

"Hello you Roxas loving man whore."

My eye twitched. That was too harsh even for Larxene.

I glared over my shoulder and came face to face with the infamous Xigbar as he stood in the center of Saix's ship, weapons posed intimidatingly out at his sides like he had to fight off the entire apocalypse to get here.

I knew it didn't require any fighting to teleport, so he was therefore just being the characteristic dick he always is and always will be.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your acquaintance?" I seethed out through gritted teeth and a tightly forced smile.

"Having a little identity crisis, I hear," he smirked, strutting over to me and my dilapidating holograms.

"Not that it's any of your business," I grumbled, avoiding eye contact, "but I know perfectly well what sexual orientation I am a part of."

"Mhmm," came the drawled out response as Xigbar arrogantly sat on the holograms I was tinkering with. Now all I had a view of was his boney butt.

"Why are you here?" I finally snarled, giving up on maintaining a polite front.

"Because I missed you," he mocked, pinching my cheek for further annoyance.

I wretched my head away from his grasp.

"Not amused."

"Ah, what a shame," Xigbar murmured. "Because, as we all know, the world turns to amuse Axel."

"Did you need something?"

"Actually I was looking for my Larxie," he bellowed, stretching his arms out and dominating what little personal space I had left. When he stood to begin pacing around the room, I savagely picked at my boots and muttered.

"She's not yours."

"What was that boy?" Xigbar questioned. "I didn't quite hear you."

"I thought you two broke up," I shot back, ignoring his previous question and hurtling another one in his face in hopes of taking his mind off of it.

"Oh, so you no longer believe she's my concern? Is that it?"

"She never _was_ your concern."

I now stood up from my previous seat, for I did not like the elevation my rival had over me. I did not need him feeling like he had a false sense of superiority.

I continued to avert my line of vision to trivial things like the pressure gauge and the cooling maintenance. Anything to avoid direct confrontation with Xigbar. His very face irritated me.

"I love the eye contact we're having here," Xigbar drawled sarcastically. "Very manly."

"Why don't you bite me?" I snipped, body temperature rising as the dare came pouring out of my mouth.

I hated what I became in front of Xigbar. I hated how my witty repertoire escaped me. I hated how I became an eye averting coward in his presence. I hated how my emotions got the best of me. I hated how the best I could come up with was practically nothing and I had to resort to lines like, 'bite me.'

"Nah," Xigbar dismissed. "I save that for Larxene."

My hands caught on fire.

"Get out," I warned, turning around and glaring at him with such hatred I momentarily wondered if I was going to accidentally combust him as well. "_Now_."

Xigbar scrunched his nose up at my display of pyrotechnics and seemed to contemplate the order for a moment. "I know she's seeing you," he noted, for the first time not tacking on a smirk to his comment.

The dead air hung between us until the oxygen seemed to impossibly become stagnant.

"_Now_." I repeated.

Xigbar shook his head in response to my demand. He then silently opened a portal behind him. "The Superior wants to see you," Xigbar grumbled, turning his back towards me. "Said it's important."

I didn't acknowledge that I heard him.

"Don't think I'm done with you," Xigbar growled, glaring at me over his shoulder.

I laughed sadistically at the dark humor of the situation. My flames slowly began to seep back into my skin.

"What are you gonna do about it?" I inquired. "Perpetually taunt me for all eternity?"

Xigbar raised one of his gun arrows in what was supposed to be an intimidating gesture. It probably would have helped if I were actually looking at him.

"Who said I was going to taunt _you_?"

My head shot up in confusion.

"Roxas is a much more appealing target. And he's safely tucked away in Twilight Town. I'd watch his back if I were you."

"Stay the _hell_ away from my best friend!" I hollered, my graven voice sending reverberations though out the ship.

"Then you stay the hell away from my Larxene."

I instinctively began to summon my chakrams from the depth of perpetual darkness. Immediately after one had formed, I poised it directly at Xigbar's lanky form in apprehension of splitting his flesh in two. I went to release the iron wheel from my hand, but it was too late.

Xigbar was already gone.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**AN**: Yes. Twenty something pages of Axel heavenliness. All is good for those who love Axel. (Vixen nods.) I was spurred on by your plethora of reviews. Lemme just say this: I love how you guys take the time to leave such insightful comments. It really is quite benevolent of you, and I appreciate it to an alarming degree. You guys are all so intelligent, and coherent, and...and...I love you all (Vixen hugs her readers in a clumsy bear hug.) Words can no express my gratitude. If it were not for your words of kindness, this story would probably never be finished.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention: Vixen has just become aware of this funny thing called review response. It's where you click on the link that is attached to the review that is emailed to you. I was totally unaware of this phenomenon (Vixen is a little slow sometimes) and was very bewildered to find that I can respond to each of your comments now! (Smiles.) So no, I was not cruelly ignoring you, I simply did not know I could respond to reviews and therefore was doing it through the process of cookie giving.

Ah well. Cookie giving is fun. I plan on continuing the tradition regardless.

ANYWHO. Before I dish out the goods I have a confession to make: I am beginning to develop a soft spot for Demyx. I don't know why. I'm beginning to suffer a severe guilt complex for constantly bashing him. However, it's a little late to stop now (lol) so to appease my worried conscious I'm contemplating on writing a short little Demyx fiction for the adorkable little musician. That way I'll be able to sleep at night. I share this with you because it shall be a rather amusing endeavor. I am an angst/sarcasm writer. Demyx is neither angst OR sarcastic. The result will probably be some odd mutt of a story between his perpetual cheeriness and my attempts to stifle my unyielding dramatic humor. Well, anyway, I thought I'd throw that out there, see if Vixen's odd attempts at a Demyx fiction would be amusing.

It should be a nice literary challenge, though. I already stepped out of my comfort zone to write this so I figured, what the heck, might as well give Demyx a shot. He deserves it after I cursed him with the Heart Throb.

So-ooo, it's time for COOKIES!

(Order they were left; no favorites...you know the drill.)

(Hands The Writer a batch of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.) Pink air bags ARE terribly amusing. I'm glad they provoked such feelings of happiness. Weee!

(Pours Oreos down on Rhain's head.) I gushed about your response in an email already, LOL. However, I shall gush once again: OMGOSH YOU'RE DRAWING FAN ART! That, like, makes my like worth living. (Insert entire gushing email here.) Ditto.

(Gives Admiral a happy smiley face sugar cookie.) Thank you so much for informing me of my typos! I really do appreciate it; I don't always pick up on these things, LOL. It's nice too know I have reviewers who are readers AND editors. (Nods.) Here, have another cookie for your double efforts. That was very insightful of you to draw the correlation between my angst tendencies and comedy. I felt so touched when you said you sometimes check this twice aday. You last sentence made me giggle: "And as fun as asphyxiation is, I'd like my death to be less prolonged." That was priceless.

(Hands Llamas/Freakazoid's Daughter seven individual cookies for her seven individual reviews.) HOLY COW. You reviewed every chapter. GAHHH! I love it when new readers do that. (Bows and exalts.) I appreciate your emails as much as your reviews. Both just make my day. Really. (Grins.) Thankyouthankyouthankyou.

(Gives Aspirations an oatmeal cookie.) Woohoo! I'm eloquent! And yes, Axel is NOT gay. LOL. Antlantica is most definitely on its way.

(Gives Unknown Author a bucketful of raisin cookies.) Your review inspired the changes in this chapter. (Nods.) I realized that Axel was falling into a particular pattern every chapter and I said to myself, 'Change is called for.' So, as a result, I had Elizabeth flirt with him instead of simply shun him, I threw Demyx in for good measure (and a couple laughs), and I had Xigbar pay a visit as opposed to Larxene. (Nods again.) Unknown Author, you have sparked my creative gene. As a result, I must ponder how to deviate from the traditional plot line once again in the next upcoming chapter. Woohoo, such intellectual creativeness is rather amusing. Thank you for inspiring it.

(Hands Anime Dutchess...um...a bag of _stupid_ Oreos...so she can eat them without feeling guilty, because they are not intelligent.) Hee hee. Thank you for your review. It made me smile.

(Dumps a truckload of sugar cookie goodness at Constance's feet.) Three cheers for dradels and potatoes. Have no fear, you were not the only one confused with the middle of the chapter. I confused myself. I actually had to have my brother reread it on numerous occasions to make sure it was on track. I got very confused with the multiple movie and game plotlines. This, by far, was the hardest chapter to write. Roar. Oh, btw, you inspired me to make Axel prone to sea sickness. I'm saving his extreme hatred of water for Atlantica, though. Mwa ha ha.

(Presents a bag of Chips Ahoy to Nocturnal Equine—along with the habitual caffeinated beverage.) Yes, Jack and Axel share a skitso relationship. It is quite amusing and fitting, I think. Heehee.

(Hands Milante some jumbo sized Fig Newtons.) You are the other person responsible for the flirtation scene between Elizabeth and our beloved Axel. I thought...hmm, I could do that. But I also wanted to kick your mental butt with surprise (since you requested it) so as opposed to the anticipated Axel ego jump, I had him actually exemplify some morals. Wow. What a good little boy scout he is. (Nods.) I appreciate the Pheonix Down. (Vixen's HP increases dramatically; intense battle music plays. Vixen bobs in place with weapon of choice waiting for her turn to take a swing.) Three cheers for turn based RPGS. Anyway. I adored your review. WEE.

(Dishes out a bucket of fudge—with the side of cookies—to Shizuka.) Omelet! EXACTLY! That's the first thing I thought upon reading her name in the strategy guide. (Yes, I read the guide on the car ride home from Gamestop...I was anxious.) Hm, I have something to admit: I HAVE written and Axel X Olette pairing. I just never posted it. Why? Because I thought I did a crappy job. However, you have inspired me to perhaps revamp it and post it. I'll probably dedicate the thing to you considering you were the one that inspired me to get off my lazy bum and give the piece a second visit. (Nods.) Yes, that sounds like a plan.

(Pats Hope affectionately on head and hands her an expensive Milano cookie.) I did not lie! Roar. Well, anyway, long live the thumpity thumps (or lack thereof) and I hope your throat gets better. Your videos on You Tube were peachy keen and I hope you enjoyed that Wicked mp3 I sent you. (Ode to precious Broadway, where would Demyx be without it?)

(Hands Story Weaver a very masculine gourmet cookie.) HA! Axel sweat dropping. Yes, that is an exceedingly amusing picture. I'm so happy the beginning made such a positive impact. I loved writing that scene. It was my favorite part, and I'm glad you picked up on all the quirky, random things I threw in there. At least I know the humor got through to my readers. (Does a spontaneous happy dance.)

(Bombardes Synthentic Smile with a plethora of various goodies.) WEE! You left numerous reviews for numerous chapters! Such things excite me. (Grins.) Oi, the dash thingie. Hmm, how shall I explain this? It took my hours to figure out. Well, not really hours, I like to exaggerate, but a significant portion of my time was invested in perfecting this. (I was rather bored one day, can you tell?) Okay. Let's say you are writing. "Axel is a demi god." But you want someone to cut him off. So you write "Axel is a demi god-"

and the quotations don't work. Well, put two dashes side by side and then, without an added space, start typing some random word. The minute you finish the word and type in another space, the two dashes will melt together, like so: "Axel is a demigod—(insert word here) "Axel is a demigod—bananas." Alrighty. Now you have a dash and the quotations face the right way due to the fact they are hugging a word. Simply delete bananas, and you have quotations hugging the dash. Ta da. If that was a tad confusing, don't worry. I can explain it better in an email. Mucho gracias for your plethora of lovely reviews. They made me smile. : )

(Throws more fudge Erik's way.) Woohoo! Glad you liked the skitso relationship as well! Yes, I still plan on 'Got It Memorized' making an appearance, I just don't know when. Heehee. Did you know in the Japanese version that quote translated directly into: 'commit it to memory'? Yeah. I'm glad they changed it.

Wow, the random crap I know. Anyway.

(Hugs Fantasie and hands her multiple butter scotch cookies.) Welcome to the story! I enjoyed the comments you left on both my Axel fictions! Horrah! Yes, I adore the pairing of Kairi and Axel too (though I will not be having them get together in this particular one. Sadness.) Oh, and yes, I did refer to Axel's hair as red in this chapter. I originally had 'crimson' in there but it sounded a little too poetic for Axel's inner first person. I can't see Axel describing his own hair as dusky rose or faded fuchsia. But that thought does make me giggle.

(Gives YukiAme a handful of coconut cookies for her kind review.) Aw, don't thank me for writing the story; thank yourself for reading it. I appreciate your benevolencey. I'm honored to be on your favorites list!

Happiness. I think I got everyone.

Have no fear, the cookies will always prevail. However, from now on the literary comments will predominately be limited to reviewer response. I think. Maybe. If I so choose. Heehee.

Oh, happy news: I GOT APPROVED FOR JOHNS HOPKINS! Mayo Clinic didn't fly over, so they are shipping me to Baltimore. I tell you this because I could be leaving any day now (as soon as they have an opening) and therefore may not update until or reply to emails until I get back. I didn't want anyone thinking I was ignoring them. Because that would be sad. And I would feel mean.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go pour over my little brother's SAT prep book he brought home from school on his second day. While I never intend on taking the SATS again, I simply love the vocabulary sections of the review guides and I read them purely for recreational purposes.

Yes, I am a dork.

I like learning new words, what can I say?

I'll put my knowledge to good use in the next chapter. : )


	9. Atlantica Part One

Woot. I apologize ahead of time for the horrible structured sentences that lay ahead. I make horrendous use of commas, my semi colons are abused, and the conjunctions I utilize tend to all involve a period as opposed to a comma. The raw emotion is still there, though, and the grammar will be corrected as soon as I feel well enough to deal with it. (Nods.) Alrighty. On To Axel.

OOOO

"Axel, I think I would like a tail."

My eyes darted forward to my previous best friend's current lazy disposition as he sat sprawled out over the width of the chair.

"Any particular reason?" I inquired. I had learned, in my vast experiences when dealing with Roxas and his unpredictable, grab bag nature, that sometimes it is best to simply just sit back and go along with whatever happens to pop out of his mouth at any given time simply for the purpose of amusing him if nothing else.

Because, chances are, you'll probably end up amusing yourself too.

Another reason why I loved that kid so much.

Stupid little brat.

"Ah, I dunno," Roxas drawled, glancing precariously at his tail lacking butt. "I just think a tail would be fun to have, that's all."

"What about wings? Do you want some of those too?"

"Wings would be nice," Roxas confirmed, nodding deep in thought. "But I would much prefer a tail."

"I'm sure you would," I muttered off hand, pretending to only be half listening but in reality providing Roxas with my full and undivided attention.

"Can we go to the Pride Lands?" Roxas asked abruptly, his head snapping to attention immediately after posing such.

"I don't see why not."

"Because I think it would be really fun," the boy continued to burble "And according to OUR radar, it says there are an astounding amount of females on the planet."

"Let's head towards it then."

"Sweet!" Roxas chirped, gearing up for acceleration and buckling his seat belt. While my...our...ship didn't have airbags, seat belts were mandatory, and my little twerpy friend always insisted on buckling up for safety.

I, on the other hand, chose the much more audacious stance of flying free.

I smirked at the fond recollection of our previous Pride Rock mishaps that seem to have taken place oh so long ago. In reality, or whatever dimension one chooses to classify us in, it was a mere few months ago, but at the current moment, it felt like a millennium.

Wow. Time flies when you're miserable.

To make things even more miserable, I heard a portal whiz open behind me. Expecting the highly unanticipated, infamous Xigbar, I gritted my teeth and prepared a mental menu of nasty remarks I could hurtle at him, since hurtling my physical chakrams would result in me being exiled and tortured. Funny system Xemnas has working here.

"Yum," I heard a muffled voice dribble from behind the contents of some unidentifiable food. "This sandwich sure is good."

My eye brow quirked at the feminine tone of voice. Well, it was either Demyx or Larxene.

I turned around in my chair.

Larxene.

"What took you so long?" I asked, smiling despite myself. It was a relief to be in the presence of anyone else other than her psycho domineering ex-boyfriend.

"Someone decided to switch ships on me, so I ended up having a nice, lovely little chat with our favorite sitar player as opposed to the pyromaniac I was originally searching for."

"Did you let him live?" I joked, the tension in my face releasing.

"I told him you got air sick in his lavatory. He cried."

"I soiled his baby?"

"Precisely."

"Wuss," I chuckled, eyeing the rations that Larxene was delicately holding in her left hand. "Um...is that, like, food?"

Larxene answered my inquiry by taking a saucy bite out of one of the corners.

"You want some?" she questioned, a little too friendly for her typical demeanor.

"_Yes_!" I energetically responded.

"I bet you do."

She took another bite.

Snitch.

"Remind me again why I put up with you?"

"Because I'm beautiful," Larxene countered haughtily, donning an expression that was daring me to speak otherwise.

I opened my mouth to hurtle an insult but thought better of it.

Larxene chose now to drape herself over the morbid seating of 'The Darkness.' Right at home. As usual.

"I see you failed again," she remarked, scanning the ship for signs of female life. There was more evidence of estrogen on Demyx's ship, and there weren't even any females aboard.

"Yes, happily so," I concurred, not wanting to put up with Elizabeth Swann for all eternity. I doubt she would have gotten along well with Larxene either. Either that or they would have been best friends.

Scary how contrary those two extremes are.

Larxene chose now to produce a tiny leather bound notebook from her back pocket that striked a similar correspondence to the one Lizzy was constantly writing in while on the ship. I raised an eyebrow in appreciated response.

"You're bad," I scolded, noting that Larxene had stolen what was previously Elizabeth's possession.

"Doesn't matter. She'll just think you did it anyway."

"Thanks, darling."

"You're welcome."

We sat there for a moment in a rather comfortable silence. Almost as if we were trying to savor the anticipation of cracking open the pages and howling in laughter at whatever stupid, pathetic, idiotic thing Elizabeth chose to write about me.

Larxene's eyes jumped to life as they sparkled in apprehension.

"I wanna see what she wrote about you."

"No you don't," I countered. "You just want more material to make fun of, that's all."

Larxene flicked a wrist in response. "So what if my motives are a little shady? I got it for you, didn't I?"

"I didn't ask you to."

"I volunteered. Be grateful."

I shook my head. While peering into the diary would prove to be somewhat entertaining, Larxene seemed to think reading the inner thoughts of a fellow female would be on par with nirvana. She looked like a squealing little high schooler getting excited about the latest juicy gossip being passed around the locker room.

This was totally out of character for the sadistic Larxene.

Then it hit me: Larxene is a girl. She is a girl surrounded by eleven other undead men for all eternity. She is alone not only in her gender but also in every other necessity that has become expected among most females. She has no BFF or slumber party buddies. There's no one to paint her nails with. There's no one to keep her secrets. There's no one else who keeps a frickin diary. She can't ask Saix for hair styling tips and she can't contemplate true love with Xemnas. She can't fawn over movie stars with Xaldin and she can't squeal with Vexen (though she could probably pull such off with Demyx.)

Perhaps Larxene was not always the cold, heartless wrench we have all come to expect her to be. Maybe she was formed into that. Maybe she really is the most miserable of us all.

Larxene cracked open the journal, the corners of her mouth twisting up into a kind of half smile I had never seen on her before. She almost looked as if she were ready to leap into the pages out of excitement.

"Oh my gosh..." she drawled out, her normally narrow eyes bulging and a dainty hand flying to her half open mouth. "She said you have a cute butt!"

My mouth sagged open.

"Did you really just say 'oh my gosh?'"

Larxene's head snapped to attention. "Yeah, why?"

"...just checking," I responded, scratching the back of my neck and avoiding direct eye contact. I thought for a second there I was delusional.

"Aw man," she continued. "She goes on about it for, like, five pages! Geez. You're butt isn't _that_ great."

"Whatdya mean it's not that great?" I snapped jokingly. "My butt it phenomenal!"

Larxene quirked an eyebrow. "Well, I'm glad one of us thinks so."

Ah. That was more like it.

Larxene continued to pour over the pages of the journal, dissecting and analyzing every sentence in her socially deprived mind.

She sat there, smirking—almost smiling, her black clad legs dangling to and fro as she swung them in lazy succession. She had a finger mindlessly twirling one of those dangly forehead strands she had popping out of her cranium and she had her head cocked to one side as she continued to skim the writings of Elizabeth Swann. Her eyes were alive and sparkling as they darted around the page and her newly healed nose was crunched up into an odd little crinkle.

She almost looked happy.

She appeared to be enjoying herself for the first time since ever. It was almost as if, for a moment, world domination didn't matter and the fact that she was no longer living was forced to take the back burner. Right now she was completely engrossed in her current novel of choice. Granted, it was a stolen diary, but that was probably half the fun.

I really wanted nothing more than to encapsulate this moment and hold it forever as proof that, yes, Larxene does have emotions. Larxene does have a heart. Larxene is still a person.

Larxene hasn't really died yet.

It never hit me until then how insanely vulnerable she really was.

Under normal circumstances, I, too, would have been amused with the fact Elizabeth harbored secret adulteress feelings for my butt. But I was too caught up in the captivation of Larxene to even notice. Well, that and the one daunting fact that I had yet to mention and was almost positive Larxene was pretty oblivious too.

"Xigbar was here."

I didn't mean to kill the moment. I really didn't. But I couldn't stay quiet any longer.

And so commenced the transformation of Larxene.

Her head snapped to attention, and I watched mournfully as her face slowly formed into the hard granite expression it was so accustomed to. The sparkle in her eyes dimmed down to glistening daggers, the playful quirk of her lips sunk drastically into her face. The brows on her forehead drew dangerously close together and all at once Larxene was not the chipper little nymph that has captured my attention mere moments before.

I hated him for what he did to her.

"Why?" Larxene demanded in a short, clipped breath, her eyes piercing holes into my face.

"He said Xemnas wanted to see me about something. You know anything about that?"

"Do I look like I do?"

I suppose, now that I think about it, mentioning Xigbar was completely unnecessary. I could have simply asked her about Xemnas, and for all she knew any member could have came and notified me. I sincerely doubt she would have gotten this upset over a surprise visit from Xaldin or Luxord.

But I never think things through before I say them.

It's one of my few faults.

I watched as Larxene slowly closed the journal that had captivated her attention so thoroughly seconds prior. The dance from her irises was gone, and her smile was a distant, fleeting memory on her now hard and placid face.

It was then that I fell victim to the cruel, unforgiving pangs of jealously as it stabbed unrelentlessly at my non existing heart.

"Larxene," I began softly. "Why did you two break up?"

"What does it matter?" she quipped, rising to leave my presence.

Curse my spontaneous mouth.

"You...don't have to go," I began, starting to get out of the seat myself to follow her and persuade my comrade to think otherwise.

Larxene responded by throwing a completely untouched ham and cheese sandwich in my lap still completely enveloped in a plethora of cellophane.

"Shut up and eat this," she ordered, summoning the portal once again.

I sat there with my mouth gaping open like a goldfish, completely taken back by Larxene's spontaneous benevolencey.

Right as I had settled on a very original, 'Thank you,' Larxene had already departed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I wanted a happy planet.

For the first time, I was not in the mood to land on a dreary looking celestial being to complement my snarky mood. I needed emotional Prozac. I needed something to take my mind off of everything. I needed an escape.

I needed Atlantica.

Granted, I can't sing worth crap, but it looked cheery enough, covered in some light blue substance I assumed was merely sky.

I'm not too astute sometimes. Sue me.

I gently glided The Darkness in the direction of apparent mermaids and musicals (I faultily made the conclusion that the mermaids dwelled in various lakes as opposed to one gigantic, omnipresent ocean.) The thought of the elusive hyperspeed crossed my mind, but even my daring mentality has limits. Usually these limits became fairly evident when riding in the ship with Roxas, for I was hesitant to take any chances with my best friend in the cabin (though I don't know why, it's not like he could die or anything.) Not that he'd allow me to take any drastic risks anyhow. Sometimes I used to pretend I was going to engage in hyperspeed and perform numerous barrel rolls just to get a rise out of him. It worked, and I was the recipient of a bundle of Roxas squeals and whines as he begged me not to throw my life away for a mere moment of pleasure.

Roxas would have made a very good DARE spokesperson in his former life, if nothing else.

Eventually I began to hover near the planet. I was only half tempted to flick on the radio this time, memories of West Side Story still lingering in my hallow head. I feared those echoes would be eternal. And after reading Saix's lame attempt at poetry, I rightfully decided that perhaps his radio is not a form of entertainment I should chose in divulge myself in.

Regardless, Atlantica was fast approaching, and I had to mentally prepare myself on how to hit on mermaids...without coming within a five mile radius of water.

I hear megaphones work quite nicely.

With these eccentric thoughts still floating around in my mind, I slowly descended into the gravity field of Atlantica. I half expected the blanket of blue to disappear as I flew through it and give way to rolling hills and valleys of green, coated with trees and speckled with sporadic bunches of flowers. Instead, the blue only intensified the closer I got to the ground. This alarmed me.

I can take on an army of life devouring Heatless, but put me near water and my adrenaline rises.

"Why do you hate water so much anyway?" I can remember Roxas asking me one day when we first started to become friends after the sailor incident. The quizzical look in his eye made him seem like he was genuinely curious, not just trying to make fun of me like Xigbar or Larxene.

"Well, think about it," I began, staring at my twiggy little friend who had taken heed of the rather distasteful face I made while washing my hands after a trip to the bathroom. (See? I hate water and I still wash my hands. Let that be a lesson for all of you gross germ infested lazy people out there.) "I control fire."

"...yeah..."

"Well what does water do to fire?"

"...makes it wet..."

I paused.

"Normal people would have said 'extinguish,' but alright, that works."

Half the reason I adored Roxas so much was for his brazen eccentricity.

"So I don't like water because my element doesn't work in it."

Roxas blinked a couple times, processing all this. He always blinked when he was deep in thought. It drove me up a wall because I was always afraid his eyeballs were going to come popping out.

"But why does washing your hands bother you if you aren't summoning fire at the current moment?"

"It shouldn't," I agreed. "But it's a mental thing."

Roxas stood there, pondering what I had just said, his face the epitome of innocence.

Next thing I knew I was being barricaded by an onslaught of sprinkles hurtled at me from the adjacent sink.

"You bi-polar moron!" I hollered, swatting at the oncoming droplets.

Roxas laughed maniacally. "Who said it was water? Maybe I just peed on myself."

"That's even worse!"

Aw, heck. I missed that kid.

Anyway: concentrate on the girls, Axel. Concentrate on the girls.

Also: concentrate on not crashing the ship. Because that would result in drowning, and in my opinion, that's one of the worst ways to go.

I frantically searched for a piece of land to let the ship rest on, but I could not find any at my immediate disposal. There seemed to be a sliver off in the very far distance, but I didn't know if I could get there in time. The gravity field was already pulling down on me and The Darkness managed to accumulate far more momentum than the flakey little Heart Throb.

At a loss of what to do, I held my breath and took the head long plummet straight into the ocean.

Saix's ship wasn't as buoyant as Demyx's.

Granted, after I was sent flying through the cockpit (I should have buckled up and saved myself the pleasure of various bruises) the thing did reemerge slightly. It would have been truly horrible if it had started sinking. Not only would Saix probably have written another angsty poem, but I would have no way to get out of the water.

Teleportation only works when you know where you are going. And I had never been here before. Hence, the ability was rendered useless in my presence.

That and the fact if you teleported too many times in one day you got sick and threw up. I did not experience this first hand, but Roxas did. He got bored one day with world domination and went missing for a week as he explored the crevices of the darkness through various portals. I, for one, was worried sick about the little brat. I thought he was going to be stuck in there for all eternity. I finally notified Xemnas who, surprisingly, went out in search of him and brought the kid back, free of charge and punishment.

Even the anti-christ had a soft spot for Roxas.

Wasn't just me.

Then again, that is probably how Roxas got away with leaving the first place. Nobody else was ever offered the chance of amnesia and a second life. But he was. And no one questioned it cuz it hurt too much.

In order to take my mind off these depressing thoughts, I quickly conjured up the mental image of Roxas barfing his brains out for days on end and was therefore returned to my normal homeostasis.

Anyway. Water.

I sat there frozen, waiting for the windows to cave in on me (which would undoubtedly suck; quite literally, if we were in space.) When nothing happened and my pulse stopped beating in my ears, I made my way shakily over to the door. I suppose taking a look around couldn't hurt.

I descended the interior stairs to gain access to the air tight doorway that was supposed to open me out into the read world. Of course, it never occurred to me that if descending was involved in my exit approach, I would be unmercifully below sea level.

This realization hit me when I opened the door.

There was a perfectly placid wall of crystal blue water, calm like unscathed glass, crossing over the threshold of the doorway. It was perfectly still in the eerie minute before total destruction as it stood there in front of me two seconds prior to abolishment.

Crap.

I was completely and totally doused in what had to have been the coldest liquid substance I had ever felt in my entire life. This is coming from the guy who finds ice cubes too cold to put in his drink. Yet I was completely submerged in a never ending supply of sea water as the saltiness invaded my eyes and mouth, creating burning sensations the entire way down. After the mad rush of H2O died down and normal water pressure again maintained, I was left standing waist deep in water as the ocean permeated Saix's entire ship for as far as the eye could see. From what I could tell, it was still floating, but I'm pretty sure Saix was going to attempt to kill me none the less.

I tried to take a step forward and realized something fairly odd. My feet weren't moving. It was almost as if they were glued together. Confused, and slightly alarmed, I attempted to lurch forward but only managed in toppling over into the water.

I totally freaked out.

I couldn't stand up, I couldn't walk, and I wasn't aware of how to swim.

I was going to drown.

I survived countless battles with ancient enemy Heartless, I cheated death the first time, I managed to not be killed by the most powerful undead man alive...and I was going to meet my demise in a pool of water because I didn't know how to swim.

Talk about pathetic.

Well, I was finally going to get to see what realm lies beyond death the first time. What really happens after we start to evaporate. Woohoo for me.

Though, now that I look back on it, as I lay there sputtering and convulsing and trying to hold my breath (all the while cursing Xemnas for making the ability a necessity ever after post mordom) I suppose I knew, deep down, that I wasn't really going to die. My flashbacks weren't profound enough. Sure, my life flashed before my eyes, but it wasn't scenes that made up the epitome of my existence.

I saw Vexen getting a paper cut on one of his novels and then whining about the black substance that poured out of his finger. "I miss my blood." That man always freaked me out. I saw Zexion completely demolishing an entire town but leaving the pet store unscathed. I saw Demyx mindlessly picking his nose in what he thought was clandestine, and the odd mixture of alarm and annoyance as he spotted me spying on him with Roxas. I saw Xemnas singing to himself in the locker room as he took a shower with his little baby blue wash cloth and Pert Plus shampoo bottle.

That did it. I knew I wasn't dying. If I really were dying, there would be images of things that mattered running through my head at the last minute. There would be Roxas. There would be Larxene. There would be Xaldin missing his kid. There would be the blurry, undefined face of my little sister.

Not Demyx picking his nose.

After determining such, and not being able to hold my breath any longer (though why I required oxygen I'll never know...it's not like I had a heart to keep pumping...it was probably a safety mechanism that Xemnas installed to tell if we killed each other or not) I inhaled sharply, well, as sharply as one can when breathing in a mouthful of water, and prepared myself to meet my fate by drowning.

Well, I didn't drown.

Though I must say, getting used to breathing water is a slightly odd feeling, especially when you hate the stuff. I, myself, am an avid orange juice drinker. Water just doesn't do it for me. Yup, orange juice and potatoes. I never claimed to be normal.

Anyway. Breathing water involves constantly swallowing, and the taste is rather unpleasant, but like all things, one learns to adjust accordingly. It's like how one cringes as the primary sting of spicy mustard but after a couple of mouthfuls it seems bland. Such is swallowing sea water.

Not like any of you actually desired to know that.

Regardless, I took a chance and pried my eyes open under the sea, trying to adjust to the permeating chill that was now enveloping me in its frigidness. My vision was astonishingly clear for being below the surface, and the salt didn't sting as much as I was originally anticipating. Of course, I was slightly freaked out when I lowered my gaze to my jelly like legs and was greeted with a dozen luminescent orange scales that had wrapped themselves around my lower extremities in the shape of a curly sea horse tail. I sat there in silent appreciation for a moment, and then timidly tried wagging the thing in trepidation. I was sent hurtling into a nearby underwater wall due to the spontaneous momentum.

Swimming was definitely going to take some getting used to.

I eventually managed to make it out of the ship (after many fine tuned steering adjustments; swimming through the door was significantly more difficult than walking through it.) I assumed the ship would be fine where it was and I could venture forth into the great blue in search of fellow fishy companionship.

I was not used to my ears popping (for I have never been one to go swimming for recreation) and the water felt odd constantly gliding across my body like it did. My Organization uniform seemed to have slipped off while still aboard The Darkness, and I was now left to conquer the seas bare chested and fish tailed.

Oh, don't gimme that condescending look. You know you want me.

Atlantica was quite a sight to behold. Armies of fish were swimming around, minding their own business and frolicking along, and there was a healthy dose of dolphins jutting through the waves overhead. I could have sworn I saw a Great Blue in the distance, but I didn't feel like swimming closer to find out.

"Excuse me, you look a tad lost. Do you need help finding anything?"

I whirled around, which was easier to do underwater than on land, and came face to scaly face with a fat little yellow blob in the form of a fish.

Aw cripes. The marine life possessed the ability to communicate?

Well, it's nice to know now fish is permanently off the Axel menu.

"A girlfriend," I stated simply. "I need help finding a girlfriend."

The fish looked at me skeptically.

"Umm...okaaaay..." he muttered in his nasally voice. Strange how I could still hear under the ocean. "Anything else I could help you with?"

"Well, do you know where the mermaids are?"

"...yes..." the fish admitted, guardedly. He seemed to be strangely protective of the females residing in the ocean. Best to ease the tension.

"So, do you have a name?"

"Flounder," the fish responded, his fins flapping slightly so he count stay at eye level. "And you?"

"Axel."

"...that's a funny name."

"So is Flounder. Sounds more like an appetizer than a name."

Flounder's fat little chubby eyebrows drew over his eyes. "I am _not_ an appetizer!"

"I bet you taste like chicken," I teased.

Perhaps this was not the best way to go about winning him over.

"No, I don't taste like chicken, I taste like fish."

"How do you know?"

Flounder paused in uncertainty.

"The first step to getting over cannibalism is admitting you have a problem," I whispered mockingly, patting him on the head for emphasis. My humor was not appreciated.

"I don't like you," Flounder firmly stated, swimming away from my outstretched hand.

"Feeling's mutual, little buddy. Now if you wouldn't mind, could you stop being so stingy and direct me to the mermaids?"

The fish's eyes bulged in response, and he immediately swam off screaming 'Ariel! Ariel!' at the top of his lungs.

I prayed fervently Ariel was not a Great White.

Next thing I knew, I was being barricaded by a clam donning, red haired bimbo leaking innocence out of every pore in her body. She had saucer eyes and a ridiculously shiny tail fin that kept flapping behind her like a windmill on steroids. She was cute, I'd give her that much. Certainly not sexy, but definitely cute.

Ah well. Cute would do.

"Flounder?" Ariel called, looking around the endless ocean depths surrounding her. I wonder if mermaids ever got lost down here. There certainly was a scarcity of landmarks to help guide them. Unless you were Demyx and considered bubbles a landmark; a stupid notion for obvious reasons.

"He swam off," I offered simply, avoiding eye contact. Her pupils were too big and shiny, and such characteristics make me dizzy. Eye contact would probably provoke my sandwich to make a second appearance, quite a feat under water.

Nice to know if she did turn out to be my future girlfriend, long looks into each other's eyes were definitely out of the question. As was ever taking her to a seafood restaurant.

This so called Ariel set her eyes upon me for the first time. Regardless of her presumed innocence, I stuck my chest out and flexed my abs. Innocent people could still appreciate sexiness. They just deny it.

"I don't recall ever seeing you in these parts before," Ariel noted in a voice dripping with sugar, which was odd because last time I checked, I was pretty sure sugar melted underwater.

I glanced at her perfectly round face. She was the epitome of purity. A goddess of innocence and virtue. A portrait of righteousness.

Aw heck. Not again.

To establish myself as the more mature individual, I stated abruptly (and without any clearly defined reason) "So how do you guys actually mate...ya know, with the tail and all?"

Who said maturity wasn't defined by your sexual shock value?

Ariel blinked her round eyes in response and cocked her head to one side.

"My Daddy always told me babies came from coral reefs."

Bloody hell. You gotta be kidding me. This relationship was over before it even started.

"Well Ariel," I began. "It was nice meeting you."

I turned away to swim off, in search of much more experienced, intelligent mermaids.

"Wait!" Ariel called after me.

I paused. Well, tried to anyway. I hadn't mastered the art of stopping on cue with my lanky little sea horse tail yet.

"Have you seen Flounder? I thought I heard him calling my name."

"Oh, you mean the appetizer?" I joked, smirking at my own verbal wit and silently commending myself on my impeccable taste of humor.

The moment I spotted Ariel's left eye twitch I knew referring to her friend as an entrée was probably a giant mistake.

Ariel then spontaneously flipped her petite body backwards so her fin was posed directly at eye level with my flawless face. She then stretched her lower extremity backwards and promptly released its impending destruction, whacking me across my cheek with her fin.

Dude. I was just slapped by somebody's butt.

Perhaps Ariel was not the innocent puritan I originally took her for.

"Flounder is _not_ an appetizer!" she hissed, readying her tail for further convincing if I did not immediately agree.

"I didn't say appetizer!" I blurted. "I said _womanizer_! That Flounder, boy, he's such a flirt!"

Ariel paused as I shielded my cheekbones from her impending doom.

"He was...flirting?" Ariel questioned, genuinely interested.

"Oh yeah..." I continued to babble. "Flounder is definitely a stud muffin if I ever saw one."

"Oh, that's so good!" Ariel exclaimed, clasping her hands together in the typical girly display of elation, regardless of the fact she was contemplating homicide moments prior. "I was so worried about him never coming out of his shell!"

"Um...aren't hermit crabs the ones with the shells?"

Ariel paused. "Metaphorically," she stated.

I determined then and there Belle was destined to forever haunt me with her literary terms and grammar usage.

Then, all of the sudden, as if struck by a metaphorical bolt of lightning, Ariel threw both hands over her mouth and promptly exclaimed in a voice filled with horror, "I'm so sorry I slapped you!"

Oh, I could have some fun with this one.

"Yeah..." I agreed, gingerly touching my right cheek. "I think you knocked a couple teeth out..."

Ariel's eyes welled with tears.

Oh crap. I didn't mean to go that far.

"Will they...ever grow back?" Ariel inquired, voice filled with trepidation. This girl definitely needed some serious exposure.

"Um, yeah," I confirmed, not wanting to be the cause of mermaid sniffles. Though I must say, witnessing a crying episode underwater would be quite and interesting spectacle.

But the crier didn't have to be Ariel. I could summon Demyx down here if I really wanted to.

"Can I do anything to make it up to you?" Ariel asked, brows knit together in sympathy I didn't rightfully deserve (but was more than willing to accept anyway.)

"Uh..." the thought of asking her to be my girlfriend right then and there crossed my mind, but perhaps I should venture off to Mermaid Homeland and see what my other options were before making a permanent decision.

"I want to meet more mermaids," I answered brightly, masking my own shady motives.

"Oh! I could take to you my castle! You can meet my sisters! I have a whole bunch!"

Music to this dead man's ears. Quite literally too, I'm afraid, for Ariel randomly burst out in some interesting hummed rendition of 'Under The Sea,' the usual Demyx cooking song when seafood is on the menu.

"Come on! Follow me!" Ariel squeed, grasping my hand and dragging me behind her. She seemed to have momentarily forgotten about Flounder and his plight as she continued to press forward deeper into the ocean. I was hoping she wouldn't accidentally let go of my hand, not so much for sexual reasons, just that if she did I would be helplessly lost.

No matter. I'm sure Larxene was lurking around somewhere not too far off.

Speaking of which, was she clad in a clam shell bra too, I wonder?

Anyway, after two minutes of swimming—more accurately, dragging—I decided to pop a random question that just happened to come floating into my head.

"Um, can you guys actually fart?"

There are moments where my immature manliness shines through with great brilliance. See Larxene? This is proof I'm straight. No gay man has the balls to question a fellow female about her indigestion. Only a true man would be stupid enough to tackle such a vulgar conversation starter.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Ariel admitted.

I'll take that as a no.

"What do you guys eat down here anyway?" I continued to blabber, genuinely confused as to there dining arrangements if they didn't ingest their fellow fishies.

"Shark meat is highly sought after," Ariel explained. "You should know that, doofus!"

Doofus? That was a new one. Better than man whore, I suppose. Though I seriously doubt man whore is in Ariel's limited, sanitized vocabulary.

"I am not a doofus," I argued meekly.

"Are to."

"Are not!" I dramatically insisted.

"Are to."

"Are not!"

Aw heck. Her immaturity was rubbing off on me. Larxene was probably having a field day.

Ariel then spontaneously giggled. I have never been the cause of giggles before. I have provoked plenty of smirks and chuckles, sometimes the occasional snicker. But never an uncalled for giggle.

"You're just like the big brother I never had!" Ariel squealed, whipping around and throwing her arms around my bare torso.

Now isn't that what every prospective boyfriend wants to hear?

"Oh...boy..." I unenthusiastically drawled out. Ariel was too caught up in the Hallmark moment to notice.

"I mean, you're perfect for the part! You're stupid, funny, and not all that good looking!"

I bit my tongue. I should burn her.

"And you're perfect for the part of little sister too," I countered through gritted teeth. "Clueless, sheltered, and completely moronic."

"Spoken by a true older brother!" Ariel chirped.

I couldn't tell if I wanted to smack her or keep her around for comic purposes so I could laugh at her chronic stupidity.

I opted to keep her around. I wanted to meet the rest of her extended family.

"Ooooh," Ariel drawled out, a rare thought suddenly occurring to her. Evidence of mental activity was evident on her face. These muscles were not used often. "My secret spot it right around here. Maybe I could show you that first! Hey, bro, do you wanna see my secret spot?"

Talk about mixed signals.

You're just like a big brother! Hey, wanna see my secret spot?

Aw heck. I never turned a woman down before, why start now? (Though Elizabeth Swann may have been a first in that category.) "Um...sure, why not?"

Ariel latched onto my arm once again. "This way."

I obliged to the command and obediently followed.

"So-oo," Ariel began, trying to make conversation as we swam towards her 'secret spot.'

"Ya know, people are going to get the wrong impression if we keep doing this hand holding thing," I teased from behind the luminescent green fin of my honorary sibling.

"Isn't there a word for that?" Ariel asked the water in front of her.

"Yeah," I buffed. "Incest."

"No," Ariel laughed from the front. "That's the odor coral candles give off, silly!"

That moronic trait of hers was becoming severely evident as time wore on.

"There's a concert tonight," Ariel continued to sputter on. "It would be the perfect opportunity for you to meet all my sisters. So, brother, tell me, do you sing?"

"First of all, my name is Axel," I corrected, realizing for the first time I had never supplied Ariel with my name. I did not enjoy being constantly referred to as 'brother.' It felt like I was ditching the real sister I did have in my former life, and I wasn't exactly down with that. "And second of all, hell no."

"Please?"

"Saying please is not going to suddenly endow me with wonderful singing abilities."

"Well, have you ever tried?"

I turned crimson. "...yes..."

Ariel spun around to face me. Of course, she did such without letting go of my arm, resulting in about five minutes of constant spinning as she tried to gain eye contact with me before realizing she could only obtain such by momentarily letting go.

"When?" she demanded, beaming.

"When I was drunk," I answered simply. I also tried to light myself on fire, but I kept that information to myself.

I knew better than to go into detail with this one.

I remember Roxas trying to drag me home but me being too heavy for his twiggy little five foot nothing frame. Xaldin happened to be passing by, and upon seeing Roxas struggle with my monstrosity, the correlation between him and Xaldin's kid was struck yet again, and the man silently helped Roxas by wordlessly lifting me up and tossing me over his shoulder. I remember, after being thrown down on my bed, Xaldin ever so politely confirming, "I did this for him, not you." Then he promptly left.

I think I muttered something of intelligence back. Something along the lines of where he could shove those wind lances of his. Roxas scolded me accordingly.

"What song did you try to sing?" Ariel questioned.

"It's A Small World," I muttered, only now feeling the pangs of humiliation as they slowly crept up on me. Also, I wondered if I'd ever meet another person again who would be willing to try and drag me home drunk as I sang choruses of the most annoying song alive while trying to spontaneously self combust.

"I love that song!" Ariel cooed, characteristically clasping her hands together yet again. "You should sing it tonight!"

"Sure," I buffed. "You got any beer?"

Ariel blinked in confusion.

"We have some very scrumptious sea weed juice..." she offered.

"Ah yes, but is it fermented?"

"...I'm not quite sure I understand what you mean."

Typical.

"Never mind. I doubt I'll be singing tonight, though."

"Pooper Scooper," Ariel shot back.

I had plenty of names on hand to respond with, but none that were Ariel sanitized. Most were reserved for Larxene and Xigbar. Ah well, Ariel wouldn't understand them anyway.

There was a moment of silence as we both floated there appreciating the fact that I was once drunk. All of the sudden, Ariel sporadically pointed to my sea horse tail fin with a jittery finger and bulging eyes.

"Boy or girl?" she asked excited, her saucer eyes sparkling.

I paused. "I'm a boy..." I answered.

"No, no, no. Not you. Your babies!"

"...babies?" I questioned, slightly disturbed. Surely Ariel knew which gender gave birth...

"Yes, babies. Female sea horses lay the eggs, but male sea horses are the ones that always carry the babies in their pouch!"

My mouth sagged open.

Holy. Hell. Not. Happening.

I was destined to be gender confused, wasn't I? Even the sea transformed me into a baby bearing male.

This time I _knew_ I heard Larxene cackling in the far off distance.

"I...um..." I sputtered. "We're keeping it a surprise," I lied. I doubt they had underwater sonograms in Atlantica anyway.

That answer seemed to suffice. Ariel turned and resumed her previous deposition as leader after once again latching onto my arm.

"My secret spot is right up ahead!" Ariel exclaimed.

"Be still, my heart," I dead panned.

I no sooner had the sarcastic remark escape my mouth when another scantily clad mermaid came whizzing up next to us, her fin flapping in the water like an adrenalin junkie.

"Ariel, Ariel!" she kept breathlessly (literally) exclaiming.

"Helll-llooo there," I cooed, taking in the sight of one of Ariel's perfectly in shape, scantily clad sisters.

I was ignored. As per usual.

"Flounder's been picked up by a fishing boat!"

Remember what I said about witnessing tears underwater?

Well, I witnessed them alright.

And somehow, it was a lot less rewarding than I thought it would be.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**AN**: I know I made Ariel a little, um, shall we say immature in this chapter, but I have multiple reasons. One being, whilst I was researching our fellow fishie friend, I discovered she is only supposed to be sixteen. I was unaware of the phenomenon. I, for one, was not nearly as adventurous, outgoing, spunky, or intelligent as her at age sixteen. I was still 'oh my gosh-ing' every little gossip tid bit in the locker room. (I'm not saying all sixteen year olds are like that, but I personally was rather...strange.) Besides, her father (King Tritain) seems to be rather over protective of his daughter and is intent on keeping her underexposed, especially when it comes to human life. Also, in order to keep things fresh and unstructured, I wanted to form a relationship between Axel and Ariel that was not a romantic hatred fueled endeavor. I wanted to delve into the sibling realm (what inspired me to do that I'll never know; perhaps it was Ariel's age and the correlation between the couples' flaming red hair and similar looking names) so I decided to have the whole little sister thing going on (I am going somewhere with that in the near future, do not worry.)

Oh, another thing: just because Larxene seems to be softening up a bit does not mean their future coupling is set in stone. In fact, it is anything but. I still have not determined who shall be blessed with the heavenly demi god commonly known as Axel. It could be anybody. Mwa ha ha ha. And I DO have a Disney character in mind, though I don't know if it will be a disaster or not. So, depending on the future, all things are up in the air. (Including Larxene.) Horrah for spontanuity (and my supreme power as the authoress which none have control over.)

Again, more notes: the sketchy flashback of the Pride Lands will continue to play out throughout the duration of that chapter. No, I am not going to abandon the duo in that awkward moment with no explanation. Besides, doesn't everyone want to see them crash? I know I do. I'm a sadistic little Axel fan girl.

And for the last note: Johns Hopkins was a miserable experience. Hence, I am being transferred AGAIN, this time to a specialty hospital in Philadelphia, where hopefully we'll get some frickin answers. And for those of you wondering: what on earth is wrong with this girl that makes her go hospital hopping every other week like she has a Disney Park Hopper Pass? That's the thing: they don't know. I've got plenty of symptoms (suffice it to say they dish me out morphine on a regular basis) but no one can figure out what the heck is wrong with me. I tell you this, once again, to explain my disappearance and the fact that I will be, again, ignoring all emails and attempts to contact me. For those who have contacted me: I am so sorry I have not responded yet. Obviously things are hectic, and writing is scarce. Updates are feats all in their own. I shall attempt to make my email rounds in the next two days, for Friday I depart.

Regardless, the only point of that was to explain my future negligence, and so people don't go, "OMGOSH, why hasn't Vixen responded yet? Little snitch!"

Not that any of you call me that. I hope.

Anyway. Happy Cookies Of Heaven Time.

SPAZM 

TWENTY REVIEWS! OMGOSH OMGOSH OMGOSH! THAT'S THE MOST ANY CHAPTER HAS GOTTEN THUS FAR! I ADORE YOU GUYS!

(Hands Synthetic a sugar cookie.) You actually understood that dash thing? I'm so relieved! I didn't even understand it, upon rereading, regardless of the fact I was the one that wrote it. HAHA—LEA! Or would that be pronounced as LEE, as I have heard Padfoot say? Leehot, Lea...different. Ah well, he's dead as a door nail anyway, so I suppose it doesn't matter. I loved how you went through and listed every specific thing you liked. You have NO idea how helpful that is to an author! Now I know precisely what it is that amuses people, so I can write more of it. (Nods.) And I'm glad Elizabeth freaked you out in the beginning; that was my intention. I wanted to mess with people's minds (and adrenalin) to keep them on their toes with unpredictability. I'm glad my writing was able to achieve such, makes me berry berry happy. Heehee.

(Hands Writer multiple Fig Newtons.) I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T READ THE ONE SHOT! Oh gosh...I feel horrible. I'll go do that right away. (Hangs head in shame, hands out more Fig Newtons to appease the Writer.) I'm so thrilled you enjoyed my steroid infested janitor comment, and that I could take the edge away from Japanese class (though I would personally kill to be in that...all my school offered was Spanish...which was okay and all...but there's no Mexican Anime...) Anyway. Good look with your second language, syonara! (Wow, can I butcher spelling or what?)

(Hands Admiral a classic chocolate chip cookie.) WEE! My analytical sentence structure is appreciated! I feel so loved! I adore taking simple sentences and seeing what obscene, outrageous way I can word them. It's like a bad addiction. I understand your plight with Demyx: I love him too, but I also love teasing him. I must make that fiction about him before my guilty pleasures eat me alive. In a sadistic sense, I am some what thrilled that your stomach muscles hurt (I'm assuming from laughing, not vomiting.) Your 'insert witty comment' was priceless, btw.

(Hands Ninja Of Death a slew of brownies.) You are so sweet. I smiled when I read your review. (Pats Ninja Of Death affectionately on head.) I'm glad my updates are capable of bringing you such joy. I feel honored to be able to do such.

(Hands Padfoot a delicious raisin cookie.) Aww, don't apologize! I still love you! I feel honored you reviewed ANY of my pathetic chapters! Ha, Ale vs. Lea, I discussed that in my first cookie to Synthetic. Lea pronounced Lee could be rather, um, shall we say: ridiculously hot? Other forms would be strange, however, lol. Ah well, you definitely gave me something to think about.

(Hands Fantasie a truck load of Chips Ahoy.) YES! My goal has been accomplished! "I think I know what it's like to sit in Axel's head for a couple of minutes after reading this story..." (Probably misquoted, but you know what I mean.) I'm overjoyed my way with words works well with Axel's personality. That's music to any fan girl's ears. I do my character justice! SQUEE!

(Hands Story Weaver a bucket full of fudge.) Weee! I put someone in a good mood! I am SO happy you found so many funnies in one chapter! Again, the mentioning of the specifics was greatly appreciated, I'll be sure to add more similar scenarios to gain some laughs in future chapters. "Dear God: Please Aide Us In World Domination. Amen."

(Hands Constance a community sized bag of lolly pops and peanut butter cookies...strange combination...but yummy none the less...) "Aw multiplied by ten w's that won't show up..." Excuse me as I laugh hysterically. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Okay, I'm done. My, that comment was amusing. Also, I never thought I'd say this: but I feel so happy that I was able to make your eyes sting! That means my goal was accomplished! Though I am sorry about the inconvenient abundance of snot (hands Constance a tissue.) See? Ramblings of balls shall bring smiles to the sad. WEE! Elizabeth was kept in character! Ah, happiness! And yes, Axel is a good little boy scout, isn't he? Heehee, I always thought so. Deep, deep down, he's got such a sweet non existing heart. And as for wakie wakie? Mhmm, Jack is da bomb. As is Demythology (I almost fell off my chair.) Your last couple paragraphs were so complimentary I almost started crying. Not really, but I felt like it. Such things brings smiles to my face and tears to my eyes. Happy tears, though. I'm so sorry I haven't responded to your email. I plan on doing so promptly after I finish this. (Nods.)

(Hands Erik a fishing net stuffed with glazed cookies, each one bearing a little smiley face drawn in blue icing.) Horrah! I surprised you! And yes, I was greatly dismayed SquareEnix didn't have the gumption to show how the Organization members interacted with each other. I decided to pick up where they left off. They provided too much raw material. This group of undead was practically screaming 'dysfunctional family!' at the top of their lungs. How could I ignore their desperate pleas for characterization? I couldn't. So I came up with this. Mwa ha. Also, I have no idea what inspired me to bash Will. I like Will. I have nothing against Will. But I just can't picture him and Axel ever getting along. So I wrote through Axel's eyes and tore at good ol' reliable Will, whom of which I adore (though I adore Axel more...heehee.) And don't apologize for your review! I love your reviews! They make my day!

(Hands Nocturnal a Dunkin Doughnuts Iced Latte and some espresso beans.) "...the non existing heart of an emo-kid poet..." PRICELESS. Three cheers for surprises (Demyx and missiles, weeeee) I'm glad my surprises enthralled you. Heehee.

(Dishes out a Sam's Club economy sized baggie of various high sugar treats, among them being maple syrup candy, nerds rope, and chocolate chocolate chip cookies. Oh, all this goes to Hope, by the way.) Aw, I'm touched by your skitsofrentic reactions to my story! I'm kind of glad the chapter had that effect, it was what I was going for. HA! Will! I had way too much fun with that description for it to be legal. I am also overjoyed with the fact you appreciated my characterization of Xigbar. I always thought he was one of the few who maintained a definite personality even after death. I guess my inclination to make him evil sprouted from the extreme hatred I felt towards him when he turned around in Land Of The Dragons and exposed himself to be someone other than the highly anticipated Riku. I moped for days afterwards, and carried an inexplicable abhorrence for him ever since. Also that and the fact that he just looks...slimy. However, he was an absolute joy to write. I had so much fun with his character. I still don't know what inspired me to pair him with Larxene. Perhaps he was one of the few members that stuck out in my mind, and therefore the only one I could think of deserving enough to be with Larxene, who has such a strong personality. He was one of the few that, in the beginning, I could remember his name off the top of my head. And chances are, if I have to look in the strategy guide to find the name for the character, they weren't all that memorable. Of course, all that has changed since writing this fiction, I now know all the members by name (and REAL name, before death) so such is not an issue any longer. But beforehand, I remembered Xigbar regardless, and therefore deemed him worthy enough of a three dimensional character to be paired with the three dimensional Larxene. Why did I just go into all that? Blagh. My insanity knows no bounds. Oh, and as a side note, I never said I wasn't going to pair Larxie up, like I alluded to in my AN, I just never said WHICH I was doing. I don't want you crying and giving up hope on Larxel, though I just may swing with a Disney character. Then again, I may not. I just love keeping the world on its toes!

(Hands Golden Memories multiple fudge pops and cookies.) AW! I got a cookie! WEE! Thank Ye! Ah yes, Roxas' mental capacity. Astounding, is it not? LoL, I just thought he foiled Axel so well when written like a happy go lucky air head that I couldn't help myself. For some strange reason, their friendship works, and their conversations are a much different style of writing than the Larxel ones. So I get to experiment with both worlds, which is highly amusing. Two different types of humor. Mwa ha ha. Also, I am thrilled I continued to somewhat resemble Jack Sparrow's character through out the chapter. He was a monster to write. I shall never attempt such again (unless paid insane amounts of money, which I don't foresee happening.)

(Drops a plethora of organic whole wheat cookies on top of Blazing Fool's head...can you tell I was running out of cookie ideas?) Weee! A new reviewer! (Smiles obnoxiously as joy overcomes a currently elated Vixen.) Here, have some more healthy cardboard treats! Now, you must excuse me as I chuckle hysterically over your 'disney characters having a decent role' comment. HAHAHAHAHA! Wow, I was sore after reading that line. Oh, and by the way: I LOVE HOW YOU PICKED UP ON MY SKITSO STORY LINE! Ahem, meaning: how I attempt to bring light hearted humor into play while mixing it with more serious undertones. And then you related it to the KH style plot, which is EXACTLY what I was going for. WEEEE! I was bouncing around like a caffeine addict for hours after reading such. I'm glad my antagonistic Xigbar was a hit, as was Axel breaking Larxene's nose. Heh, I had fun writing that. OMGOSH—Kanga! (Spazes and consequently dies.) Stroke of sheer brilliance. Now how on earth could I write that? Note to self: ponder later. That just may actually materialize...

(Dishes out plates full of Gertrude Hawk chocolate covered strawberries...and cookies...to Tatikara.) Happiness! I kept people in character! Such things make me proud! (Insert happy dance here!) I'm glad Demyx brought amusement by the truck load, as was my intention (and his too, I'm sure.) Oh, and YES, I am very proud you like my Roxas! I think I physically squealed when I read that line. My goal was accomplished! I'm glad you appreciated the cereal box. I still don't know what inspired that...but I could just see him taking the cardboard thing and sticking it on his head, couldn't you?

(Hands Anime a bag of non singing, non communicating, faceless, stupid Oreos.) Yup. Guilt free. Eat and enjoy. Anyway, I was simply thrilled by the fact that you appreciate my big words (it comes with reading the SAT vocab book for fun...even though I am no longer in high school...) and how you noted you rarely ever see big words in humor fictions. That is true! I've noticed such, and when my brother petitioned me to write this, my first fear was: I won't be able to use my fancy literary techniques! Humorous authors just don't do that kind of stuff! And then I thought to myself, why not? I'll do it anyway! So I did. Hence the result of lengthy sentences and flowery vocabulary. I'm glad you like my words. I love how people can string letters together and makes them sound so pretty (such is the draw in writing.) Wow, I sound like Belle. Axel would be appalled. Perhaps I should stop rambling. Haha.

(Hands Summerlea a bag of Smarties in addition to various cookies.) YAY! I feel so honored you find my story amusing! I was inspired to do numerous happy dances on your account!

(Drops multiple wafer cookies at Shizuka's feet.) Ah yes, Olette. Haha. I almost have the first chapter completed. Wee! I shall perhaps post such and possibly dedicate it to you some time in the near future. I just have to get around to completing it! That and, to be quite honest, I have no idea how to write Olette (it's through her POV.) Making the transition between Riku and Axel's POV was not that difficult, but going from Axel to Olette could prove to be somewhat of a challenge. Hopefully all turned out well. Oh, and thank you for pointing out Barbossa's name! LOL, I'm not too astute sometimes.

(Hands Kingston a bunch of mini chips, stuffed conveniently in numerous cookies.) YAY! I made you hate Xigbar! I feel so powerful! (I'm sorry, messing with people's perceptions of characters amuses me to no end, and I'm glad I was able to write Xigbar in such a way that it derived such an emotional response from you.) That was my intention. I decided to make Xigbar the antagonist, hence he was not meant to be loved, lol. WEE!

(Hands Starr a big iced cookie.) Ha, yes, Xigbar and Larxene surprised even me. LOL.

(Hands Aspirations some fudge.) Woot, Atlantica was next! I figured you'd be pleased. I'm sorry the Search Engine kept barfing on you! I'll try to be more...visible...next time, lol. Yup, I switched things up a bit in the previous chapter. Twas quite fun. Attempted to do such again with the sibling relationship, but, eh, I miss Demyx. LOL. I feel so very very honored to be on your favorites list! A million times: Thank You!

(Hands Minnet multiple sugar wafers.) Three times? Awesome! My Demyx scene was that amusing? I feel so honored! Heehee. I'm glad it brought a smile to your face. As did the 'clown head' comment and Saix's lovely, Scholastic Publishing worthy poem. We all want a piece of that amazing literary skill, now don't we? I'm sorry you were grounded! Hopefully the punishment has ended! Here, have some more cookies to occupy yourself with!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

(Throws out extra cookies to Constance, because Vixen felt like she deserved more sweets for her novel length review.)

Thank you so much for your time and suggestions! I try very hard to take every one's ideas into play because, to be quite blunt, you guys are geniuses with the smartest advice and comic ideas. How can I ignore such fantastic words of wisdom? I love hearing from you guys, you inspire me to write when I don't feel like it. Kudos to the hordes of you!


	10. Atlantica Part Two

Woot! I have returned, baring thirty pages of Axel goodie goodness as opposed to the typical twenty. Sorry for the delay, but hospitals suck. But enough about that! Onto the wonderful pyromaniac mishaps that lie ahead!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I was never known for my astounding abilities when it came to consulting sobbing females.

Such was evident as Ariel sat draped over a randomly placed rock crying her eyes out admist her Secret Spot, expecting me to cough up some words of comfort to ease her plight in her time of need.

I remained silent.

Tears are not something I'm accustomed to, and I most certainly do not like them. When's the last time I saw Luxord turn on the water works? When did Vexen ever sniffle? Heck, Larxene boycotted tears altogether. And Ariel expected me to do something for her? The only practice I had with dripping saline was Demyx, and that hardly counts. He always claimed it was allergies anyway.

Though for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what it was he was allergic too. Unless it was chronic darkness or concrete, there was no plausible explanation for his sniffles. Lord knows there was a total lack of flowers in The World That Never Was, so either Demyx was suffering a severe reaction to sky scrapers or he was downing that Sudafed needlessly.

Regardless, none of that mattered right now.

I needed to find something to take Ariel's mind off things, for aside from tears in general simply annoying me, female tears are ten times worse. It's a blessing Larxene refuses to participate in such emotional activities.

"Can you...hand me my...thingie ma bopper?"

I paused in uncertainty.

"Excuse me?"

"My...thingie...bopper..." Ariel tried again, sniffling between words. "I need to comb my hair..."

I knew better than to question the odd habits of females.

"Um, sure sweetheart," I confirmed, scanning the shelves of mundane knick knacks in search of the fabled 'thingie ma bopper.'

The Secret Spot was a total mess, and really nothing more than an abandoned cave that Ariel seemed to have taken up and now called her own. The clutter was phenomenal and invoking feelings of claustrophobia. I didn't like it, but I didn't feel like announcing such to an already emotionally distraught girl.

'Hey, I know your best friend is probably getting eaten tonight, but just so you know, I hate your room!'

Some things were better left unsaid.

"Thingie ma bopper...thingie ma bopper...thingie ma bopper..." I kept muttering under my breath. I had no idea what I was looking for. Not to mention I had great difficultly swimming without the aide of Ariel's arm. Stupid gender confused sea horse tail. It was way too curly for its own good, and totally impractical for travel. I missed my legs. My pale, stalky, albino legs. This fin thing was getting agitating.

"It's the long metal stick with the sharp, pointy prongs at the end," Ariel explained, whipping her eyes.

I quirked at eyebrow in confusion. I thought she was describing a torture device. This girl must have a very sadistic way of combing her hair.

"Next shelf over," she directed.

I obeyed. After a couple more minutes of fruitless searching, I finally stumbled upon the 'long metal stick with the sharp, pointy prongs at the end.'

A fork. Ariel wanted to comb her hair with a fork.

Well, she was eccentric to say the least. If Roxas were still around, they'd make a good match. Ha, maybe I should drag her to Twilight Town...

"Ya know sweetheart, there is an actual use for this..."

"Yeah, I know," Ariel confirmed, snatching the eating utensil from my grasp. "It's for combing your hair."

"No-oo," I corrected slowly. "It's for eating food. Like, that shark meat and stuff."

"...but we don't eat shark meat with thingie ma boppers..."

I paused.

"Please don't tell me you use chop sticks."

Ariel regarded me strangely. "No, we don't do that either...but it does sound enticing."

"It's not. Trust me."

Ariel began to frantically run the thingie ma bopper through her obnoxiously shaded tomato red hair.

"It's called a fork," I offered, Ariel's discomfort clearly evident through her hasty hand motions and jittery disposition.

"What is?" Ariel questioned in a tremulous voice.

"Your thingie ma bopper. It's a fork."

The naïve one blinked in rapid succession. "How do you know that?"

"Um...because I use one on occasions?"

Even though I previously thought it humanely impossible, Ariel's originally gigantic saucer eyes got even bigger as they widened in surprise.

"Wow..." she breathed. "You...have human connections?"

Awkward moment.

"Er, yeah," I stuttered. I originally flirted with the idea of exposing myself to Ariel (not physically you perverts, get your mind out of the gutter) but I realized that perhaps she would not take kindly to the fact a human man wanted to whisk away one of her mermaid sisters.

That whole inter-species breeding thing could get rather complicated very rapidly.

I assume Xemnas was the product of such anomalies.

"Wow, I can't believe Scuttle got something wrong..." Ariel muttered, placing a hand over her mouth deep in thought.

"Is Scuttle a manatee?" I teased, picking the first marine life that came to mind.

"Oh no, he's a sea gull."

I stalled. "Oh." I wasn't actually expecting an animalistic response.

"Anyway..." Ariel breathed, continuing to comb her hair with a fork, "We need a plan."

"For correcting your noun usage?"

"No. For saving Flounder."

"Oh. Well, yeah, that too."

I saw evidence of the tears starting to build up in the corners of Ariel's eyes. Well, technically Ariel's eyes have no corners, for they're completely round, but the edges were rimmed with saline.

"Don't cry," I soothed, trying to pull sentimentality out of my butt.

Ariel sniffed in response. "What if they're cooking him right as we speak?"

"Aw, don't worry. I'm sure as soon as he hits the frying pan he'll suffocate and won't feel a thing."

Ariel stared at me, mouth ajar and face a ghastly shade of white.

"Er...metaphorically," I quickly added.

"We can't just sit here, we need to do something!" Ariel shrieked, her teenage hysteria becoming fully evident the more this girl continued to comb her hair. Her hormones chose to make themselves known through the numerous tears that were pouring out of the mermaid's eyes and floating upwards off her cheeks to join the bubbles as they drifted towards the surface.

"Well, let's think," I ordered, attempting to tackle the role of good ol' big brother and take charge. While I am use to taking charge, it usually does involve death threats of some kind along with the element of fire.

"Okay," Ariel sniveled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

"We know Flounder is on a fishing boat, correct?"

Ariel bobbed her head vertically.

"So that means we should probably head up to the surface as opposed to lurking around in dark, smelly, claustrophobic caves."

Whoops.

"...my cave is not smelly..." the mermaid sheepishly insisted.

Yes it is dear, but I know better than to tell you that now.

"But...surface!" Ariel shrieked, in a sudden panic. "Surface means legs! I don't have any legs!"

I blinked. "There isn't some way to take care of that?"

I assumed if I was able to grow a confounded pregnant sea horse tail as easily as I did, Ariel should have no trouble sprouting legs in her time of dire need.

"Well, I suppose there's always Ursula..."

"That name sounds...ominous..."

Ariel took the word 'ominous' as her cue to burst into another round of gut wrenching sobs as the devastation racked through her body.

"Ariel," I stated firmly, grabbing her by the shoulder. "Ariel, look at me."

She continued to wail.

"Ariel, I said look at me. Deep breaths now, deep breaths."

She attempted such and began to hyperventilate. I can't do anything right.

"Look at me Ariel, look at me. I want you to breathe in, and then out. Okay? It's really simple. You can do this for me, right?"

Ariel nodded through her violent gasps.

"Okay. Inhale," I instructed, inhaling myself for further emphasis. Ariel mimicked my actions precisely. "Now hold it. Good girl. Keep holding it."

Ariel sat there with her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk on steroids.

"Now I want you to release it very slowly—no, no, no, that's too fast Ariel! You're not listening to me sweetheart. I said slowly. Like this." I began to slowly exhale for Ariel so she could again copy my characteristically flawless example. "Good," I commended, once Ariel's rapid breathing had returned to normal. "That's what I want to hear."

Ariel smiled through her tears. "Am I doing a good job?"

"Yes darling, you're doing a fantastic job. I'm proud of you."

Ariel's shy smile slowly transformed to a gigantic, face cracking grin as she beamed wildly and threw her arms around me.

"You're the best big brother a girl could ask for!" Ariel squealed into my ear canal.

I initially grimaced at the volume but eventually broke out into a smirk as I habitually wrapped the scrawny little Ariel up in my embrace.

"You know I'd never let anything bad happen to you, Adelaide. I'm always right here."

I felt Ariel's body stiffen within my arms.

"Adelaide?" she repeated, retching herself away. "Who's Adelaide? My name is Ariel, doofus."

My body froze.

"Did I just...hug you?" I sputtered, trying to hide the intense surge of emotion that was coursing through my empty veins.

"Yeah. You hugged me and called me Adelaide."

Oh gracious. Adelaide. Her name was Adelaide. I remember now. My little sister's name was Adelaide.

And she used to cry a lot.

"I...didn't mean that..." I choked out, my tremulous hands shaking convulsively.

"...you didn't?" Ariel gasped, her eyes glazing over again.

"Well, no, I mean...yes. I did. But not that last part."

Ariel paused uncertainly.

"Say, wasn't one of your friends about to become an entrée?"

That last reminder seemed to snap Ariel back into action. And tears. But not as intense as last time. She was still able to swim, and I assumed she was directing me to Ursula's lair.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ursula was fat.

And she wore way too much make up.

And she smelled funny.

Needless to say, I didn't like her.

She also had these two ridiculous side kicks that kept slithering around accomplishing absolutely nothing and rendering their presence pretty much useless. They looked like two giant pieces of mold infested spaghetti. Or two long boogers swimming in the ocean; the stringy kind that you pull out of your nose when you're sick. Basically, they were eels. Gross looking ones at that.

"She's supposed to help us?" I grumbled to Ariel, who looked like she was ready to pass out.

"Mhmm!" she squeaked, high pitched and fragmented as she attempted to swallow her nerves. It was failing miserably.

It was then that Ursula noticed the two of us floating at the entrance of her cave. She arose from her previous perch and began to swim over to us. I then took heed of the fact Ursula was indeed an obese octopus with eight dangly, revolting legs and countless suction cups on her underside to match. It was all I could do to keep my previously ingested sandwich down.

"Please tell me she doesn't sing," I curtled, wincing as the over weight monstrosity approached me.

"Only sometimes," Ariel offered.

"Not the answer I was hoping for."

Wincing was a given as the blubber loomed closer and closer to our proximity. "Ariel," the icky one cooed in a voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness. "How are you?"

I shuddered involuntarily.

"Who's this?" the octopus questioned, directing her slutty gaze at me.

"Oh, that's Axel," Ariel dismissed. "He's my brother."

I gawked at Ursula's domineering chest. "Are you wearing a push up bra?" I blurted.

Ursula grimaced. "My, he's charming."

"More charming than you," I buffed. "Not that that's much of an accomplishment."

"Axel!" Ariel hissed.

I couldn't help it. This blob of blubber was grossing me out.

That and something just didn't seem right.

I found myself defensively floating in front of Ariel, separating her from the giant, looming octopus that was before her. It was an action done without my consent, and I didn't even realize I was doing it until Ariel pushed me aside and swam ahead of me.

"I need legs," she pleaded desperately. "Flounder's in trouble. I need to rescue him!"

A smirk began to pull at the corners of Ursula's mouth. "Of course you do, darling," she simmered in response.

"Don't call her darling," I muttered, barely audible. "Only I can call her darling."

I was ignored in the light of the current disaster, which was just as well considering my previous remark isn't something I'd want tattooed on my chest.

"Can you help me?" Ariel continued to beg.

Ursula nodded affirmatively. "Yes, yes, of course I can. But as you well know, everything comes with a price."

Ariel visibly gulped.

It was then the octopus started to eye my seahorse tail in a very suspicious manner.

"Dude, quit checking me out. I'm too young for you."

Ursula's thickly outlined eyes widened in surprise. "I would never...!"

"Oh please," I scoffed. "You know you want me."

The over weight sea minion shook her head violently, as if trying to wave the very pleasant image out of her mind. Her double chin jiggled accordingly.

"I'll tell you what," she began, inhaling sharply. "I'll give Ariel a set of legs for a day in exchange for one of your babies."

My mouth sagged open. "_What_?"

"You heard me," Ursula confirmed sadistically, grinning in light of my horror. "Don't worry, you'll get the baby back as long as Ariel returns at the end of the day. I need to make sure my precious doesn't run away on me, now don't I?"

"But...but..." I stuttered. "They're _my_ babies!"

I subconsciously threw my arms around my lower abdomen (or at least, what would have been my lower abdomen if I weren't donning scales) in a silent gesture of protection over my hibernating sea horse children.

"You'll get them back," Ursula repeated non chalantly. "I don't see what you're so worried about."

"Let's see how many you've got," Ariel chirped, violating my fin and prying open the pouch containing the newborns. She seemed fully intent on saving Flounder and didn't much care for the troubles of anyone else.

"Get out of there! Stop molesting me!"

Ariel continued to poke around until she produced a tiny, sleeping baby sea horse that curled up into a perfect round ball, almost as if it were still encapsulated within the egg it had previously just hatched out of, in the palm of her hand. It began to tremble due to the sudden drop temperature as it habitually continued to suck on its tail. All of the sudden it expelled a barely audible 'achoo,' accompanied by the gentle fluttering open of it's saucer like eyes as its line of vision darted around in a panic.

"Aww, it's a preemie!"

"Of course it's a preemie," I muttered. "You just ripped it out of the womb."

"You know what they say, cesarean sections are always the best way to go," Ursula remarked in all of her grossness.

Good heavens, did I just give birth?

"Gimme my kid," I demanded. "I want to hold her."

"Him," Ariel corrected. "He has a pouch for babies. So it's a guy."

"Don't care. I want my baby."

Ariel obliged and handed me my newborn child. It toppled into my outstretched hands and innocently looked up at me, blinking in rapid succession as it slowly registered my face.

"Daddy?" it squeaked, smiling.

Goodness. That's it. I'm in love.

"Mine," I stated, clasping my hands around my baby. "He's mine. You can't have him."

"Well then, Ariel's not going to get any legs, now is she?"

Ariel's face paled in horror.

"Axel, please," she begged, on the verge of a mental break down. "How would you feel if someone was about to kill your best friend?"

Ya know, for someone as truly moronic as she is, she has this exceedingly odd habit of saying the most convincing things at the most dire times.

I quickly pictured Roxas in a frying pan and, after I got done initially smirking at the absurdity of his little blond head popping out of the top of a stove, I grimly gave a nod of consent.

Not that Roxas would mind being cooked all that much. He'd probably be too busy playing with the bubbles in the boiling pot to notice what was going on.

"So do we have a deal then?" Ursula suggested, using a strangely happy tone in the midst of such a drastic situation.

"Not quite," I mused, smirking myself. I made a protective fist around my preemie child and with the other free hand quickly summoned my beloved chakram out of the abyss of darkness. "New change of plans. Give Ariel a frickin' set of legs or I chop your tentacles off one by one."

At this moment my kid decided to pop his head out of my fist by wedging his scrawny little neck in between my knuckles and peering out over the clenched palm of my hand. With his miniscule fins up by his eyes, he mused in appreciation of my newly acquired weapons.

"Ooooh! Daddy, shiny!"

"Get back in their Squirt," I commanded. "You don't need to see this."

As it turns out, my momentary lack of attention did not go unnoticed. Next thing I knew, the stupid pair of stringy boogers who I had originally perceived as useless swam by and snatched up my weapon, leaving me empty handed and completely defenseless.

"What was that about my tentacles?" Ursula repeated saucily. "The kid. Now."

I scowled intensely. "You do anything to my child and, rest assured, I will have you being served at Castle Oblivion as an appetizer."

"Aww," Ursula mocked. "I'm not important enough to be an entrée?"

"If we serve you as an appetizer you're big enough to be used for leftovers," I grumbled. "For three weeks."

I didn't bother to mention there would be twelve people eating her every night, either. Twelve people. Three weeks. Impressive.

Demyx would have fun sautéing her.

Then we could use her leftover blubber for candles.

"Axel," Ariel elbowed me. "Just give her your kid. We'll come back for him, I promise."

I silently complied by handing over my precious child to an eagerly awaiting Ursula.

"Daddy?" the little one squeaked. "Daddy go bye bye?"

"Daddy will come back," I cooed assuringly, patting my child on the head with one finger (if I used my entire hand I'd probably break the tiny thing's neck.)

"Unless Daddy loses Ariel," Ursula snarled. "Then I keep you for lunch."

I seethed in response to the previous remark.

"Give Ariel her legs. Now."

"As you wish," Ursula complied.

In the moment, Ariel spontaneously became engulfed in a ball of light as it encapsulated her frame whole, swallowing her being into a blinding flash of various sparkles and shimmers. After a couple of moments of intense glow, a human Ariel emerged, grasping her throat with both hands and vainly trying to suck oxygen out of the water.

"You snitch!" I cried. "You made it so she can't breathe!"

"That's what humans do, dear. They breathe oxygen."

"She's gonna die down here!"

"Well then you better hurry."

With one last deadly snarl, I clasped my hands around Ariel's wrist and began to frantically drag her towards the surface. On my way out of the cave, I silently drove my elbow into the stringy booger's eye and reclaimed my weapon of choice from his possession.

"My poopsie!" Ursula cried in dismay.

Poopsie? I knew the two resembled spaghetti and boogers, but feces never crossed my mind.

Regardless, I continued to dart to the surface as Ariel convulsed behind me. I had to swim extra hard to make up for the puniness of my seahorse tail. I noted my abdomen was severely sore after the previous incident, almost as if the muscles inside my pouch were grinding against each other and someone was trying to wretch them out.

Goodness. Was I actually getting cramps?

I didn't have time to ponder such feminine things now. I needed to get Ariel to the surface before she died on me. Because that would be terribly inconvenient.

Also: I wouldn't get Squirt back. I just love how I habitually started referring to my kid as Squirt. That name is about as poetic as a butcher knife.

I eventually emerged from the sea and threw Ariel up on my back to prevent her from drowning. I hastily scanned the horizon for some conveniently placed stray wooden planks or a rock precipice of some kind to lug her oxygen needing body on to. Much to my dismay, there were no such luxuries in sight. And my sea horse tail was slowly giving out.

"Ariel! Ariel! Where are youuu?"

I paused. I heard someone beckoning the now unconscious mermaid, but there were no people in sight.

"Ar—iel! You're father iz goin' tooo kill mee!"

At this point I tried looking down and was surprised to see a miniscule red crab poking out of the water looking directly as me, pinchers poised and ready to tear me to shreds if necessary.

"You!" he cried in a thick Jamaican accent. "You kidnapped Ariel!"

"You gotta be kidding me."

"I most certainly am not!" the crab responded, most flabbergasted. "Now you shall meet your fate, you dastardly evil bad-doer!"

I immediately summoned my chakram in response.

"Call me that again and I'll make crab cakes out of you."

My intimidation tactics work quite nicely.

The crab crawled into his shell. "I...I am not afraid of you!"

"Mhmm," I drawled out, unconvinced. I knocked on his shell with my fist. "Then why are we playing peek-a-boo?"

"I happened to like that game as a child," the crab admitted sheepishly.

I paused. "I...um...don't care."

The crab's head emerged. "Oh."

"Look," I began, tiring of the infamous small talk that drives me up walls. "Flounder's been picked up be a fishing boat. We need to save him before nightfall otherwise Ariel loses her legs and I lose my kid."

"Ariel has legs?!" the shell donning individual gasped. I found it amusing how much his eyes bulged when I alarmed him. Almost as if he has a severe thyroid problem.

"For the moment," I assured him. "And your friend is about to become a meal if you don't do something."

"When did she get legs?!" the sun burnt animal continued.

"...a couple moments ago..." I stated slowly, having trouble seeing why this took priority over Flounder's current predicament.

"No! No, she can't have legs, she can't!"

I gritted my teeth.

"Flounder just got picked up by a _fishing boat_. He is going to _die_. He is going to be eaten _alive_. You need to help me _now_. Is any of this getting through to you?"

The crab's jaw sagged open, hitting the ocean in one giant slop.

"Why didn't you say so, mon?!"

"...I just did." I grumbled, slapping my forehead in aggravation. Mortal stupidity never ceases to amuse me. "Now shoo. Go find some fishing boats. Make yourself useful."

"I'll come back as soon as I find one!" the crab bellowed, poising one crab claw patriotically over head.

"Yes. That's great. Now go. Please."

"Yes sir!"

I have never met an animal who I wanted to cook so desperately upon the first five minutes of acquaintance.

But I suppose there's a first time for everything.

Eventually I spotted a piece of lone drift wood floating not too far off my bobbing point along with the waves. I had to get Ariel off my back soon before I accidentally killed her because that would be, ya know, bad.

I threw Ariel up onto the plank with all the strength my upper torso could muster (for it is rather difficult to maneuver when you are half submerged in water) and stared blankly at her momentarily, at a loss for what to do next. How does one go about waking up a sleeping girl anyways? The common sibling trick of splashing water unmercifully upon the face crossed my mind. At least it did until I realized that would be like trying to wake a human up by telling them to breathe. At a desperate lack of options, I cleared my throat in the most manly way possible and readied myself for what three days prior I would not be caught dead doing whilst sober.

"Look at this stuff," I began melodically. "Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collections complete? Wouldn't you think I'm the...boy...the boy who has, everything?"

Nothing.

I tried another verse.

"Look at my bod, isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my abs are complete? Wouldn't you think I'm the man, the man who has, everything?"

Still. Nothing.

I sighed a tired, mangled breath.

"It's a small world after all..." I trailed off, wincing and squeezing my eyes shut in embarrassed apprehension. "It's a small world after—"

Ariel began to stir. Thank God. My off key theatrical renditions were torture even to myself, and I consider myself amazing at everything. I have an ego to suffocate all life, what can I say?

"Doofus?" Ariel murmured, her eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Good morning bed head," I cooed. "Thank me for saving your life later. It's nice to see you're not dead. Did the harmonious tone of my lovely vocal chords wake you up?"

"They woke me up alright," Ariel confirmed. "Good heavens Axel, you weren't kidding when you said you sing horribly. I can see why you only do it drunk."

Ah. Horrifically blunt to the last. How much more little sibling like can you get?

"Thanks darling. I love you too."

"You do?" Ariel asked, hopeful. Her face perked up an alarming degree. I would have to be a cruel, heartless bastard not to comply too her inquisition.

Damn.

"Eh..." I stammered. Wooing and kissing and flattering to a certain extent is all fun and games, but throw that pesky L word in there and everything gets blown to hell.

Or maybe I'm just intimidated by it.

It's not something you throw around lightly. Even I know that.

Gracious, am I actually displaying scruples? It must be a sign of the impending apocalypse.

Knowing I had to think fast, I quickly blurted out, "I'm not capable of it."

Heh. Impressive. Didn't think I could come up with such a convincing explanation on the spot like that.

"Yes you are silly!" Ariel spat, glomping me on the side of my head. Any other girl would have had her extremity severed for doing such. How does she get away with these things?

"Mhmm," I drawled out, unconvinced, or at least pretending to be.

Ariel seemed to contently beam at me for a minute before sporadically twitching and simultaneously sucking newly required oxygen through her mouth.

"Oh my gosh! Flounder!"

She's spacey to say the least.

"Don't worry hun, I got it covered," I said smoothly, taking the opportunity to bask in the praise Ariel was destined to lavish on me in response to my actions. "I told that little lobster fellow of yours to scope the area out for boats. He seemed neurotic enough, he'll probably be back in a jiffy."

Ariel seemed to relax slightly, but not enough for my satisfaction.

"It's alright," I soothed unnecessarily, once again going that extra inch to comfort her for reasons I couldn't comprehend. "Flounder will be fine."

It didn't work as well as I was hoping, but I doubt I would be consolable if I knew Roxas was somewhere in a frying pan.

"Anyway," I blurted, thinking perhaps I should change the subject to take Ariel's mind off of things. "Talk to me."

Ariel's face paled in response to the uncalled for interrogation.

Perhaps making the traumatized mermaid speak right now was not the best of ideas.

"Okay," I said cheerily. "I'll talk. I'm twenty one. How old are you?"

At least, I think I'm twenty one. Well, actually, no, I'm positive I'm twenty one. I died on my birthday.

"Sixteen," Ariel squeaked.

"Oh sweet Mother of Mary, you're jail bait..."

"Excuse me?" Ariel questioned.

"Nothing," I promptly responded.

"...do you have any sixteen year old friends?" Ariel ventured in a quaky voice, trying desperately to put on a brave front and attempt conversation. It was kinda cute in a pathetic sort of way.

"Haha, Demyx acts like he's sixteen," I coughed out dryly.

Ariel's eyebrows knit closely together. "Hey..."

"I was just kidding sweetheart, calm down. Now that I think about it, Luxord acts like an adolescent from time to time too."

"Luxord?"

"Yeah," I smirked, nostalgically staring off into the distant horizon. "He's my drinking buddy."

Oops.

"Do you sing duets with him?" Ariel asked quizzically, a smirk playing on the corners of her lips. Ah, mission accomplished. The girl was smiling. Maybe the oops wasn't necessary.

"Yes, actually," I admitted, ready to say anything to get Ariel to smile.

"What songs?"

"You're obsessed with songs, you do know that, right?"

"Of course I am. Everything had music within."

Gosh. She sounded like Demyx. Gag me.

"Yes," I agreed half heartedly, recalling the inanimate objects of Beast's Castle with startling clarity. "Yes it does."

"Even you!" Ariel exclaimed, excited.

"Yes, but apparently I suck."

"Well, yeah..." Ariel flicked her wrist in dismissal. "But 'sokay. I'm sure you're useful for something."

Fighting intense urge to burn certain mermaids right about now...

"Let's change the subject, shall we?" I muttered, not really enjoying be demoted by an illegal merfolk. "Why do you mermaids wear sea shells anyway?"

Obviously I knew it was for modesty reasons, I'm not a total perverted moron. But I wanted to know why shells. Why not something more...comfortable. I don't have any female bosom to speak for, but I know those ridges can not be easy on the flesh.

Oh don't look at me like that. You're all thinking it. I'm just the only one with enough balls to say it.

"Because B Shells are too small and D Shells are too big," Ariel responded simply.

Bloody hell.

"You did not just say that," I grunted, burying my face in my forearms.

"Say what?"

"Nothing."

Ariel began to mindlessly comb her agile fingers through her hair in blissful ignorance. She was amusing if nothing else.

It was then that I unintentionally chose to have my eyes wander down south and for the first time took heed of the fact that Ariel was...indeed, naked.

"Um..." I stammered sporadically, eyes bulging in unexpecting alarm. I could not see any unmentionables, but Ariel's bare flesh was enough to hint at what the drift wood was conveniently hiding.

"Yes?" Ariel questioned, stopping her fingers midstroke. I could feel my body temperature rising. I know I know. I frolic around the galaxy looking for woman and then God Almighty finally plops a blaring naked one right in front of me like a Christmas present and all I do is float there and blush. So much for the self proclaimed suave chick magnet. Show me breasts and I get tongue tied. It's not that I don't appreciate female anatomy, gracious no, it's more like I subconsciously pick up manners I'm embarrassed I possess. Do ladies really strive to find a gentleman? I always presumed they favored the bad boys. Hence my persona.

Maybe Belle is right. I am trying too hard.

But I don't admit these things. I avert my eyes because that's who I am. I'm a pathetic excuse for a man when it comes to sexual pleasures and I can't help it. Since when did such an admirable personality trait pick up such bad connotations? It's like a sin to be pleasant and mannerly. I have proof: Xigbar. He's a pig. He got a girl. I take pains to be humanely decent. I get mistaken to be gay.

You tell me what's wrong with that picture.

"Are you...um...indecent?" I grumbled.

Ariel looked down and admired herself in all of her starch nudity.

"Why yes I am," she said matter of factly.

Well she was certainly calm enough. I suppose that makes it easier.

Wait. No it doesn't.

"You need clothes," I determined, scanning the sea like I would magically find some lone camisole floating admist the waves.

"Why?" Ariel questioned.

"Whatdya mean why?!" I hollered, snapping momentarily. "Goodness Ariel, what's wrong with you?!"

"I'm a mermaid," she answered simply. "All I wear is a bra."

"Yeah well you're not wearing one now!!!"

"I suppose I could fix that," she mused.

"That _would_ be appreciated."

Ariel scoped out the area totally non chalant. "Do you happen to see any seaweed?"

"No." I answered pointedly. Who know such a trivial thing as kelp would play such a determining factor in my manhood? I had never been more desperate for plankton in my entire existence.

Eventually some green matter happened to make its way over to where the two of us were floating and Ariel begrudgingly covered herself up in an odd mesh of tangled seaweed. I was exceedingly grateful. I didn't need illegal body parts tempting me. Bad enough she's swimming around in undergarments as it is.

I don't quite remember what provoked either of us to do such, but eventually conversation died down and we grew rather wearisome. I, for one, was not custom to swimming so much in one day. I avoid water like the frickin' plague. And I suppose the human transition took a lot out of Ariel. Before we knew it, the two of us were leaning on the drift wood fast asleep.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Lemme drive."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you'll get us killed."

"Who cares, we're already dead."

"Roxas, you are not piloting OURS, and that's final."

"Why?"

I sighed. "You already asked that."

"Why?"

"Because you thrive off being annoying."

"Why?"

"Because you lack the gene that makes most people tolerable."

"Why?"

By now I had figured out where he was going with this.

"Roxas, you are not funny. Shut up. Now."

"Make me," Roxas dared, sticking his tiny pink tongue out at me. Rotten booger.

"I can't hurt you," I muttered. "I'll get exiled."

"Nah, it's because you love me," Roxas dismissed, waving his hand in the air and marching definitely to the driver's seat.

"I appreciate how much you listen to me on my own ship."

"It's not _your_ ship," Roxas grumbled pointedly. "It's _ours_. Therefore I get a fifty percent say in all matters concerning anything whatsoever."

"Yeah, but so do I."

Roxas paused, contemplating momentarily. I had unwittingly caught him off guard.

"But...I'm cute."

Bloody Hell.

"And I'm hot," I countered.

Stalemate. Such goes most conversations with Roxas and me.

"Yeah...butbutbut—"

"But but but nothing. I win." Of course, I technically didn't win. It was a tie. But you know me. I never lose. Or at least: I never admit to it if I do.

Roxas leaped over my seat and threw himself into the driver's position. "No you don't," he concluded firmly, and proceeded to toggle with the controls as we approached the Pride Lands with great speed.

I had given up arguing otherwise by this point.

I should never have let Roxas into that seat. The kid can't drive to save his non existing soul. He likes to think otherwise, but everyone knew he sucked. He was good at making pancakes and wielding two key blades. Not driving. Though for the life of me I couldn't figure out how on earth someone could be so gifted at fighting with both arms moving simultaneously yet have issues maneuvering a lone joystick.

But that was Roxas for ya. Never made any sense. Especially towards the end. At least in the beginning it was funny.

"Weeee!" Roxas squealed as the ship began to waver uncontrollably. I could feel it getting progressively more and more unstable. "I'm gonna get me a girl!"

"Not if you talk like that," I muttered off hand, subconsciously grabbing onto the sides of my chair.

"What's wrong with how I talk?" Roxas demanded. "I talk gooder than you."

"I rest my case."

"That was intentional, by the way," Roxas added sheepishly.

"I didn't notice."

"Shut up. Yes you did."

By now the ship was practically hurtling from side to side. I did what I never thought possible and buckled in. Wow.

The ship darted into the gravity field and began to plummet head first to the surface. The metal contraption burst into the atmosphere and was hovering just above the sky line as we fell from orbit in an interesting display of oranges and reds. We looked liked a sunburned orange.

Roxas began to hum a little tune as we were delivered from destruction. He was the only person I knew who sang as he crashed (besides Luxord, who sang while drunk.) It was almost as if he was completely oblivious to the fact he was about to get himself killed again and was simply enjoying the moment like nothing was wrong. Even I like to believe my best friend was not that stupid.

"You do know you suck at flying, right?" I inquired, gritting my teeth as the grass grew greener and greener the closer we got to the land.

"I do not!" Roxas pouted, taking his eyes off the windshield to look directly at me, saline building up in his corners. His lower lip quivered dangerously and he was donning the most ridiculous take on puppy dog eyes I had ever seen. Well, except for when Vexen tried the feat. He looked like a walrus with a thyroid problem rather than anything else. Zexion had some novel he wanted and refused to part with it. Thus a sniffle and a whimper from Vexen, so totally out of place but that man will do anything for the sake of a book. Lord knows I wish I had never witnessed it.

"You do to," I countered flatly, grimacing. "Keep your eyes on the planet."

"Why?"

"Do _not_ start that again."

Roxas smirked in anticipation. I was half tempted to wretch the joy stick away from his sweaty little adolescent grasp and pilot the damn thing myself from the passenger seat.

I chose now to look out the windshield to assess future damage and was surprised, if not alarmed, to be greeted by an interesting rock formation crawling with an abundance of...lions.

"Roxas..." I began cautiously. I squinted to adjust my vision. This couldn't be right. But it looked like it was. There were four legged, furry mammals occupying the plains beneath. Some were dark, some were light. Some had manes and all possessed Roxas' much longed for tails. It was like a checkerboard of animal ethnicity.

"Roxas..." I repeated as we loomed closer. The ship was hurtling down from the sky and headed straight for the rock thing. "What am I seeing?"

Roxas' brows furrowed together in confusion. "I dunno. Looks like animals. Lemme check the radar," he chipped.

"Whadya mean check the radar? You're the one driving numb skull!"

"I can multi task," he answered non chalantly. I knew right then we were doomed.

"You're really pushing it."

"Am not," Roxas jibbed as he flicked on the radar and abruptly applied the air break so we were suspended awkwardly in mid air. That wasn't supposed to be how you used the darn thing but Roxas certainly didn't know any better. A liquid smooth feminine voice began to flow from the speaker overhead.

"Good afternoon Master Axel."

Roxas shot me a quizzical side ways look. "Master Axel?" he repeated.

"What?" I shot back in defense. "It would have sounded wrong if I programmed a male voice saying it."

My friend shook his head in response.

"Computer," he addressed. "Can you tell us—"

"Annabelle." I corrected. Roxas looked at me again. "She has a name!" I snipped like he should have known this already. "Annabelle!"

"You have got to be kidding me. I didn't agree to this."

"I didn't ask you."

Roxas sighed in frustration. "Fine. Annabelle. Can you tell us the local species residing on this planet?"

The voice simmered in contempt. "I only respond to Master Axel."

Roxas glared.

It was my turn to stick my tongue out. "Annabelle," I began, my voice dripping with over done sweetness just to further irk my best friend. "Can you tell us the local species residing on this planet?"

"Those words are too big for you," Roxas muttered, patentedly pouting and folding his arms over his chest.

I kicked him under the dashboard.

"You're just bitter than Annabelle doesn't like you."

Annabelle seemed to coo in response to my voice. "Master Axel, you have such a sexy voice."

Roxas' eyes bulge. "Did you program her to respond to questions or to flirt with you?!"

"Both," I admitted unashamed. "Annabelle is my techno girlfriend."

"Because God Forbid you have a real one."

I ignored the insult. Roxas was simply just envious.

"Why thank you Annabelle, I like your voice too."

"I like your voice more," she responded, voice deep and sultry.

Roxas buried his face in his hands. "You have got to be kidding me..."

"She's not," I assured him.

"Not, not her, you! I can't believe you made a techno girlfriend! This is worse than dating Larxene!"

"Nothing is worse than dating Larxene," I muttered.

"Dating Demyx." Roxas stated.

I involuntarily gagged on myself.

"Master Axel," Annabelle inquired. "I have assembled a list of the local species whilst flirting with you, just like you programmed me to do: flirt while processing. Would you like me to address the topic as of now?"

"Indeed," I replied smirking wildly. Females boost my ego, human or not.

"Lions, giraffes, zebras, antelope, elephants, rhinos, baboons, warthogs, hyenas, and mere cats."

Silence.

"Um..." Roxas began. "Any humans?"

"Negative," the computer replied.

Roxas than inexplicably burst out into peels of uncontrollable laughter. In the midst of his side splitting fit of hysterics, his foot must have somehow managed to slide off the air brake and the ship continued to plummet towards the dreadful rock thingie. Tears rolling down his plump little puffy cheeks, Roxas completely ignored the fact we were looming closer and closer to our second deaths.

"Roxas..." I warned in apprehension. No response, not unless you count blabbering chuckles a response. "Roxas..." I tried again when the first attempt failed. "ROXAS!" I hollered.

I then grabbed the joystick from my hysterical friend and swerved last minute to avoid impending doom. But I didn't avoid soon enough. The tail end of the ship grazed against the top most prominent rock on the mountain and the back end was sent spinning to the ground in a blazing inferno of debris. In response to loosing the posterior, our ship went flying out of control. It barrel rolled head over heels as we zig zagged to our demise that was supposed to lie at rest in the great sprawling green plains of the Pride Lands.

I don't remember much of the actual crash. In fact, I scarcely remember anything at all, except passing out, and all because my idiot little friend couldn't control his gaping black hole of a mouth.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Someone was pinching my nose.

"Mon! Mon wake up!"

My eyes shot open as my arms instinctively swatted at the stupid little sea minion that had some sort of deranged attachment to Ariel. As my vision focused, I was greeted with a set of bulging bug eyes set in the face of a crab.

"What is it?" I questioned groggily, rubbing my violated facial feature gingerly.

The crab's face twitched with characteristic nervous anticipation. "Mon! I finally found Flounder!"

The next thing I remember is my ear drums being shattered by Ariel's abrupt, unexpected, high pitched, deafening scream.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**AN: AHHHHHHHHHH! **So many reviews! I adore you all!!! (Vixen bows down and exalts the hordes of holy reviewers.) TWENTY SEVEN REVIEWS! I am so terribly grateful! Sorry I took so long to post, but I was in the hospital MUCH longer than expected (hence why I decided to grace you with thirty pages of Axel goodness as opposed to the typical twenty.) The one good thing about being the hospital with nothing to do: I contemplated my fanfiction for hours on end and I am now immensely proud to say I HAVE FIGURED OUT THE ENDING. Mwa ha ha ha ha ha ha! And I shall not tell you what it is! Double mwa ha ha ha ha! Rest assured, it is terribly well thought out and very wicked awesome. I'm happy with it. Now I just have to get around to writing. Hee.

Thank you for taking the time to leave such long, well thought out reviews with so much thought and substance behind them. I am terribly grateful. I adore the lengthy responses and do my best to comply to the suggestions and requests of my readers (if you wanna see more of a certain Organization member, lemme know! I stuck Luxord in this chapter under request, wee!)

I'm so emotional. People leave me long reviews and I get, like, high off of it. I go around bobbing the rest of the night. Yes people, make Vixen bob. Leave reviews. Haha.

The constructive criticism is appreciated as well. I adore making my writing better, so helpful suggestions are welcome too (although, please keep in mind: 'your story sucks goat balls' is not constructive criticism.) You people are amazing. Please keep that in mind.

Oh my gosh. My brother abhorred Squirt. Depending on how you guys receive him, one of two things may happen. Of course, if Mario has any say, Squirt would be served as an entrée at Eric's palace in the next chapter. So we'll see how that goes.

The Roxas flashback seemed to have nice chemistry, but I think the prior Ariel bonding scene was a tad bit choppy with the dialogue. I dunno, maybe I'm being paranoid. Axel also had a couple lame lines with Ursula I couldn't resist the urge to write. Poor Axel, being subject to my unrelentless tendency to make him seem like a dumb butt. Heh. I enjoy my power. I tried to develop the sister thing a little more with Adelaide, which will play out in further chapters. Lemme know how that turned out.

With all these fun things being said, it is now time to move onto the twenty seven cookies that lay in store. HAPPY DANCE TIME!

Annabelle was such a joy to write. :)

COOKIES!

(Hands Padfoot a raisin cookie.) Lea is too hot. The more I think about this, the more it seems to be true. Hmm. Oh, and I have to say, you have my exact line up for all the same favorite male Organization members. Axel, Zexion, Roxas...oh, and of course our favorite sitar player is up there as well. I'm also developing this thing for poor little Xaldin (who is not really that little when you think about it.) Ha.

(Hands Tatikara a bag full of numerous cookies, among them being chocolate chip and peanut butter.) YAY! I'm glad you enjoyed Atlantica so much and I was able to keep Ariel in character. (I see so much of her lately, what with the new DVD release of Little Mermaid and all...Disney has her plastered all over every merchandising tactic known to man kind.) I'm SO happy I was able to provoke you to audibly scold Axel! My mission was accomplished! I love when I evoke vocal responses to my stories, even though the characters can't hear them. Means you are enjoying the story. Wee! Sea horse tail! I'm glad that went over well! Thank you for your empathy, such things are always appreciated.

(Gives Aspirations a cookie sandwich.) HE DID GIVE BIRTH! LOL! I gave him cramps, too. Heh. My revenge for being cursed female with a menstrual cycle. Again, your sympathy is appreciated. :)

(Dishes out Ri2 a chocolate covered strawberry.) Ooh! A list review! These are cool! I suppose Axel could tell Larxie about Xigbar, but he's never known for saying things that need to be said. He mentioned it, but of course he offended the blondie in the process and she stormed out before anything of real substance could be shared. I never thought of Larxene being feminine with Namine! Time line wise I'd have to see where I could stick her in, because that would definitely be interesting. LOL: "Secretly dig her." Priceless. Ah yes, Zexion has a soft spot for chickens and animals. I spontaneously made him a vegan for the heck of it, figured it would be something I could poke fun at in later chapters. He's just an animal lover, I met a lot of people who liked animals more than they liked people whilst trying to give away my brother's turtle. I modeled him after such observations. Ha, the ship. There is not an explanation for that, I took author liberties. I didn't want the ship to sink, therefore it didn't. I ignored all rules of physics. I know that, lol. I'm bad. My science teacher would be ashamed. ARIEL WITH MANGA EYES! LOL! And killing her...Disney must be rolling in his grave...I laughed out loud on that one. Horrah for spontanuity! You're review made me giggle.

(Hands Writer some baked goodies...burnt baked goodies, but goodies none the less...I can't bake...) Ha, what can I say on here that I haven't said in email? LOL. I laughed out loud reading your review. Laughs for emphasis I'm glad you derived so much enjoyment from having Axel REALLY see Larxene...that was EXACTLY the reaction I was going for. I'm also thrilled with the prospect you are actually enjoying Larxene the way I write her. I feel so accomplished. "Die bitch die!" is worthy of being forever quoted.

(Hands Wolf some...uh...meat? Er, my lame attempt to be funny. Don't kill me on account of failing miserably, please.) No! I would never shoot you! I'm glad you love my story so much! It makes me feel all warm and tingly inside.

(Hands Phantom some invisible cookies. More lame jokes. That don't make sense. Because Phantoms aren't invisible. But ghosts are...and phantoms are sort of like ghosts...kinda...maybe...maybe not...never mind.) You're review was so cute! And amusing! Eats up plushies in hungry appreciation...metaphorically anyway...I wouldn't really eat a stuffed animal... Thank you for the compliments! I appreciate such things! I'm glad the sentimentality got through to my readers (does a happy dance.) Ah yes, Flaming Shadows. Long forgotten Flaming Shadows. Enough people have actually asked about that to almost inspire me to update it very soon. I have the entire next chapter planned out (hurrah) and the ending. So I just have to get around to writing it. Haha. It should be up fairly soon (and by fairly I mean possibly sometime this month.) Though I don't make promises because sometimes I get sidetracked, LOL. So hurrah for our favorite Platinum Head!

(Hands Forgotten a mint chocolate chip cookie.) You are actually not the first person to comment on cracking Mulan and Axel together. Wanna know a secret? After this story is completed, I actually plan on putting in a bonus chapter at the end and pairing them too together just for the fun of it (of course, the chapter will have no relevance to the story what so ever and Mulan is not the Disney girl I have in mind for Axel—you shall meet her very soon, I believe) but I can't resist the urge to write it since so many people seemed interesting in the Axel/Mulan pairing. So perhaps I shall amuse myself and divulge in the coupling as a bonus author's note. Heehee. Tell me what you think!

(Covers Constance in a plethora of ice cream, fudge brownies, cheese cakes slices, and—oh yeah—cookies.) WOW. Your review is colossal. Words can't express happy bobbing Vixen's gratitude. Yes, Axel's butt is indeed phenomenal. As is his singing voice. Well, Quinton Flynn's anyway. Reno and Axel should do a musical duet on Broadway. I'd buy front row tickets just to have the pleasure of showering in their spit. TMI, I know. I'm glad Roxas is laughable, which were my intentions entirely. Oh, and no, I didn't mean to have any yaoi hints in there. I probably just worded it poorly. Stupid me. The shampoo line I could not resist writing. I can just picture Xemnas doing that, can't you? Hm, maybe you don't want to picture it. I'm so glad his 'life passing before my eyes' paragraph was memorable! Weee, you picked up on that! Every author's dream, I'm sure: having things remembered they intended to be memorable. Music to my ears...well, technically candy to my eyes this being a computer screen and all. But you get the point. CANNABLISIM! Ha! I snorted to myself writing that line. The temptation was too great, I couldn't resist. Hm, putting Riku in this fic...I'll think about it, but no promises. I'm trying to see where that would fit in. (Scratches head.) Note to self: ponder later. Cookies now. Hee hee. You're compliments concerning my fanfiction being wrongly classified were beautiful. I am honored to hear this is novel worthy. Really. It made my entire week. Being compared to published authors...wow. My dream. To be published? My fantasy. Ha. Oh, and I would never shoot you for giving me a long review. Lemme say one thing:

I LOVE LONG REVIEWS!

They are eye candy! And I appreciate the time you take to leave them! Why oh why would I ever shoot you for being benevolent? (Shakes head.) I shall give you cookies, not bullets. (Hands Constance a piece of cake because she knows Constance likes cake better than cookies anyways.)

(Hands Admiral a bag of Milanoes—fancy gourmet cookies from bakeries.) Hugs Wee! You really saw Larxene! My efforts were not in vain! My little insightful scene on her character was appreciated! (Smiles.) Yes, Xigbar does scream abusive, at least he does to me anyway. I AM going somewhere with that, and it is more than just meets the eye. Hurrah for plot twists! OMGOSH OMGOSH OMGOSH! GOT IT MEMORIZED! PERFECT! PERFECT! PERFECT! (Fan girl squeals!) That is SO going in there! SQUEE! Whichever one of you came up with that: geniusness. Pure geniusness. (Nods affirmatively.) I truly appreciate your concern over my well being. It means the world to me. (Nods again.)

(Hugs Fantasie and gives her iced sugar cookies.) Aw, good luck with your hordes of homework! I'm so terribly relieved you derived enjoyment out of this chapter, and I'm thrilled with the prospect that I can capture Axel's persona. My mission in accomplished! Thank you for informing me of such things. :)

(Hands Erik gaboodles of sugar wafers for kind, generous review...and for that Got It Memorized line that Admiral informed me about...you need to read his cookies to understand just how funny I thought that was. Priceless.) I made you cry AND fall out of your seat in laughter? WOOT! I never thought I'd be so happy to make someone cry before, LOL. I'm glad the suspicion is up for Xigbar, heh, just the way I wanted it. I love dragging things out over various chapters, can't you tell? Haha, his classic fight scene. Axel IS classic, is he not? LOL. And yeah, I don't understand how 'commit it to memory' goes to 'got it memorized' either. Maybe they thought it sounded cooler? I dunno. Thank you for your concern, it means so much to me. I really appreciate it. :)

(Drowns Minnet in a plethora of sugar wafers, only because she loves them so much :) ) I laughed when you rambled about kicking your sister. Twas humorous. Not kicking her, but the wording. Indeed. Axel's interpersonal ramblings are such a joy to write. That stream of consciousness gets me every time. I can't resist it. The pull is too great. I have no idea where those merpeople questions came from. I can't believe they were floating around in my head. I can't believe I actually wrote them, LOL. I'm glad you enjoyed! And thank you for your kind words in correlation to my condition. It's comforting to know.

(Hands Lady Keyblade a whole bunch of fudge brownies.) Awww! Thank you for offering to look up the symptoms! (Nods appreciatively.) Yes, I do plan on introducing Zexy Zexion into the story again. He's fun to poke fun at, and one of my favorite characters, hee hee. I suppose this time line is...hmm...well, it's obviously before COM because Larxie is still alive and kicking. Also, it has to be after KHI because Roxas was there, and Roxas didn't appear until after Sora gave himself up in the first game. So ta da! I figured it out! Hurrah for me! And YES, I love the fact the Organization is still ALIVE, LOL!!! I can't believe THEY ALL GOT KILLED OFF! Too much raw characterization was just sitting there practically screaming for attention, and then they all go off and die! ROAR. Anger.

(Dishes out a bucket full of chocolate chips to Ninja.) Three cheers for Philly! Thanks for your moral booster and kind words! They made me smile! Glad you like the story!

(Gives Nocturnal a mocha and espresso brownie.) LOL, a missile on Atlantica? HA HA! Yes, he does react to Ariel's obliviousness. I'm so glad you enjoy it! As for the flashbacks, more to come, as usual. Heh. I can SO see Roxas asking for a tail. I had to stick that in there, couldn't resist. It was just so...so...Roxas-ie. Indeed, surprises are fun, and I plan on throwing a lot more in there. I can not WAIT to write the ending. Hee hee. Thank you for your good luck wish, I'll be sure to remember it! Also: thank you **SOOOO** much for sharing my story with Espeakus! (Bobs around the room with happy glee.) I appreciate such things!!!

(Hands Story Weaver some graham crackers...quickly realizes those are lame even though Vixen enjoys them...replaces them with yummy chocolate bars instead.) I love how you list everything that makes you laugh! It's so helpful, really! Now I can make sure I have the same kind of humor in the next chapters. (Nods.) I also adore your comment, 'Realization that your best friend is girl is the first step to LOVE!' So true, so true. Well, if the person is a guy anyway. Opposite for me since I'm a girl. LOL. I'm SOOO glad that ship scene with Larxene and Axel went over so well!!! I'm really hyped up about that right now, hee hee. Glad it was enjoyable. Really, really glad.

(Gives Xemagirl a smiley face cookie.) I TOTALLY plan on poking more fun at Axel's pregnancy, especially as to where he received the baby.

(Hands YukiAme some strawberry cookies...do they make those? They should.) I'm glad I'm not the only one who suffers a guilt complex when it comes to doing characters justice, LOL. Yes, I'm almost positive Axel rolled his eyes every time Roxas muttered something along the lines of 'OURS.' They finally crashed, weee! Figured you'd enjoy that particular flashback. I'm glad you liked the relationship him and Ariel had. It does open other sides to him, now that I think about it.

(Dishes out a bunch of traditional Oreos to Golden Memories.) I put Luxord in this chapter for you! WEE! I took your suggestion! Hee hee. I'm glad you know your shampoos so well, I just randomly picked one. Though I could see Xemnas being attracted to the smell of Herbal Essence with its natural fruity flavor and all. (Is it fruit or flowers? I dunno, I use Pert Plus.) I'm so glad you picked up on everything I wanted you too (ie: Xaldin's kid, the all girl slumber party, Axel's little sister who now has a name.) The new wardrobe idea seems pretty nifty, I shall keep that in mind. (Laughs deviously.) Oh, and also, I don't suggest crying underwater, LOL. Doesn't crying, like, require oxygen and stuff? (Grabs chocolate covered pretzels hungrily, feels guilty for hogging them all, gives Hershey's chocolate bar to Memories to appease her.)

(Hands Shizuka an apple tart cookie...I hope you like apples.) I love your analysis of Ariel's character (and not just because it backed up mine, either, LOL.) It made so much sense in all of its multi sentence glory. I think I shall refer people to your review when questioning Ariel's maturity (or lack there of) seeing as though you explained it so well. There is a definite correlation between Ariel and Axel's sister (whom I can now refer to as Adelaide, wee) but I keep such things secret in order to build suspense (mwa ha ha.) Square Enix and Disney romance? Let's break that border, shall we?

(Gives Kamikaze a fudge pop and some cookies.) LOLOLOLOL! You were like, "What?!" Ha, priceless. I wish I could have seen your face! I'm sure that was priceless too. I'm glad you liked the story, however, and did not remain in a state of shock through out its duration. Unpredictability is key and I am oh so very happy I was able to accomplish such (bows) thank you for pointing it out, makes me all giggly (grins for emphasis.) Irish or Scottish...hm. I shall have to ponder that later.

(Smothers Crazy with a plethora of assorted goodies, among them being chocolate, icing, and an abundance of kiwis.) Haha, the title is something I pulled out of my butt. I have no idea where it came from. I just started spontaneously typing it and left it there under settings, where it remains today. Any suggestions? I'm always up for those. I'm so glad I brought you to tears (oh gosh, I sound so masochistic.) Lemme say this: I LOVE your idea for NEMO! AHAHAH! Priceless! (Steals idea.) Well, technically its not stealing since you suggested it, but you know... Thanks for the five stars!

(Grabs a bull dozer and buries Hope in a literal ton of chocolate chip cookies.) Disney used to make such good movies! Ugh, what happened!? (Glares and Home On The Range...or whatever that piece of turd was called.) I miss the singing, I miss the dancing, I miss the fairy tales...WHYWHYWHY did it have to change? Grrr. Such things enrage me. Your role play tales cracked me up to quite and alarming degree. I'm glad the Ariel/Axel relationship was such yummy food for thought, my intentions exactly. Haha, I figured you would be dismayed at the lack of certainly in your favorite pairing. It could still, and very well may, happen. Perhaps I am just messing with everyone's mind (Twilight Zone theme plays in background) perhaps I am not. You will meet the female competition very soon though, so you can hate her then, LOL. Gah, your reviews are NEVER too long, I adore every single word of heavenly literature pouring from the keyboards of fellow Axel fans. Especially you because, as you said, you go in 'rabid fan girl mode' and I find such things terribly amusing as I am guilty of doing such myself. Thank you for your good wishes and concern, really really hope to hear from you soon:)

(Dishes out a billion kazillion million vanilla cookies to Unknown Author.) I improved! I improved! I improved! I improved! (Runs around the room on speed chanting and singing all the while.) 150 percent, no less! Weeeee! Sorry, such things excite me to no extent, as you can probably gather from my spontaneous reaction. Oh, and yes, there is a definite storyline progressing in the background while Axel goes out on all his misadventures. I'm so glad you picked up on that! And I'm ever glader (ahem, made up word) you referred to my characterization as EXCELLENT. Weeee! And as for Will (laughs) yeah, he was TOO much fun to write. I appreciate your words of wisdom and shall correct such things after I finish the story (for I always save the reediting process until the end, due to the fact that if I don't I get very confused and forget to update. I get stuck in the previous chapters and never add new ones. I just keep reediting and reediting and reediting...yeah. LOL. The cycle never stops.) Oh, and while we're on the topic of reediting, I have a question: what on earth can I do to make the first chapter better? I always feel like the first three are my weakest chapters, and I have no idea how to fix them (primarily the first one.) I know there's a few typos laden within the first sentence of the prologue, and I also laced in too many talking tags within the dialogue (he said she said kind of adjectives) but I still feel it is lacking something. I ask you because you always have such insightful editing remarks and I value them greatly. (Nods in appreciation.)

(Hands Org. XIII a cinnamon cookie.) The first time you've laughed at written jokes? I feel so honored! I'm glad you enjoyed the story so much! And yes, I plan on inserting MANY more Organization member scenes and flashbacks through out the duration of my story. They are simply too much fun to write.

(Gives ZeSpooneh a welcome mat and a hug, along with a couple of cookies.) Welcome to the story! Well, sorta. You've been lurking for awhile, but this is the first time you've reviewed. Hurrah! Now you get cookies! I'm glad you actually like how I portray Demyx. I'm waiting for someone to attack me for making him too feminine or whatever. You read every Zexion flashback multiple times? Aww, true fan girl dedication! I'm glad my Zexion writing skills were good enough to be enjoyable the second time round. I am a flashback addict too (hence the abundance) and love nothing more than a good past story to help further characterization. Apparently my addiction is shared, and I am ever so grateful for it. I MADE you a fan girl of Roxas? OMGOSH OMGOSH! I feel REALLY talented now! And I made you want to shoot Xigbar and sympathize with Larxene? WEEE! Happiness! I'm glad I awe you with Axel, for that sexy pyromaniac is definitely awe worthy, and I'm thrilled with the prospect that I apparently do him justice. Oh, and just for the record, I adore long reviews!! How could I not? You people put so much effort into writing them!

(Gives Pikachu some maple cookies and syrup.) Weeeeee, you like my take on Axel! Happiness abounds! (Eats up given applauds eagerly.) I'm glad you derive so much pleasure from my lame attempts at humor. LOL, I see I have a Larxel fan on my hands. I shall keep that in mind. Hee hee. Thank you for the faves and the kind words of concern!

(Hands Splat numerous treats from Halloween...aw heck, here, share my whole pillow case full of goodies, you deserve them.) You're review had me in hysterics. I was laughing from the opening line to the end. I'm glad I'm not the only person still out there who find amusement in fairy tales. Being an animator sounds insanely interesting. Be sure to yell at Disney to include more songs in their animated motion pictures, like in Aladdin and Hercules and Little Mermaid! And...oh gosh...Hunchback...(swoons.) Best. Music. Ever. Best animated movie ever. Do you have a favorite? I think it's pretty obvious which one mine is, ha ha. Your approval of my Axel characterization made me literally squee with joy. Your compliments made my week and I was dancing around the room as a result. No, really, I like leaped out of my chair. I do strange things when I'm happy. Ah, another Mulan/Axel fan! You must read Forgotten's cookies! I discuss my future plans for Mulan and Axel in there. Mwa ha ha. Your comments concerning Cinderella had me in fits of hysterics. I needed a staple gun to hold my sides together. "If I were mentally abused and neglected for ten years I'd be pretty docile, too." Priceless. Sally is definitely coming up in the near future, though I don't know if she'll be next or not. I'll have to think about that (I thought it would make a good chapter for around Halloween but Halloween has come and gone and I still have Axel swimming around in Atlantica. Oh well. It was a good idea in theory.)

(Gives Espeakus an economy size almond fudge cookie.) Thank you so very much for your world of compliments! They made me grin with glee. (Grins.) BTW, I thanked Nocturnal for showing you my story :) I've never met a dedicated Saix fan. No, really. I mean, I know they exist within the archives of fanfiction but I've never run into one. Usually I meet Axel fans (obviously) Zexion fans (that kid has a huge fallowing, and he's never even been in 3D!) and Demyx fans (I am one, even though I tease him unrelentlessly.) Roxas has a small fan base as well. But Saix never really got any attention from the hordes, at least none that I could ever see. You should send me some good Saix stories, it should be interesting to see what people do with his character. Lord knows he got plenty of screen time in KHII. Him and his little elf ears. Why do he and Xigbar happen to be the only two with elf ears? I could never figure that one out. Anyway. Ah yes, Axel and Larxene. I think I have a fairly good idea what is going to happen, but regardless of my inclinations, a Disney girl will be introduced for Axel one way or another. Either as competition or to steal him away. Mwa ha ha, but such things shall be kept secret. (Smirks mischievously.) Your Ariel rant had me laughing out loud, to the point where the volume got so great my brother actually wandered over to see what I was chuckling about. He then proceeded to read your review over my shoulder. We both shared in a frenzy of giggles. (The sea salt cellophane was a truly memorable line.) Also, referring to her as 'slutty fish' made me bellow uncontrollably. And her lack of color coordination? I rewatched the opening scene to Little Mermaid and discovered you are indeed right, they all match except her!!! I never noticed that before, thank you for drawing that humorous conclusion and bringing it to my attention. You have such a fresh and unexplored take on Ariel, twas quiet the amusing piece to read. Thank you so much for your concern (and your lovely compliments), they truly made me feel better :)

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It makes me so happy you people chit chat about my story! You people are incredible. Thank you for taking the time to tell me what you think about my foretold Axel mishaps. Means a lot, and it does give me quite an alarming degree of inspiration. You people are so benevolent.

And now I'm gushing.

So I shall stop.

And update.

Because deep down, I think that's what everyone wants, isn't it?


	11. Atlantica Part Three

I have here by determined, in the wonderful prismatic mind of the one and only me, that it is near impossible—no, scratch that—_absolutely_ impossible to have a crush on Ariel. I came to this conclusion whilst watching her (or more accurately attempting to _avoid_ watching her) prance around the deck of the said fishing boat in all of her oblivious stark nudity. Sure, she had a bundle of sea weed clutched over her unmentionables, but it hardly did anything for modesty considering the fact that, for a sixteen year old, Ariel was incredibly well endowed.

No, I am not looking up my sister. But it's impossible to have male parts and not notice these things, lest you are Demyx.

So I sat there, bobbing like a blushing idiot on the side of the make shift boat Sebastian had so hastily lead us to. The thing was dilapidating and reeked like dead fish (imagine that) and the stench reminded of the kitchen back home after Zexion was done cooking with his ridiculous organic herbs and spices.

Did I just refer to Castle Oblivion as my home? Wow, I've been dwelling in darkness too long. Twilight Town was always my home. Always will be. Twilight Town with Adelaide. Nothing can replace that.

But Ariel sure as heck came close.

"Oopsies, sorry!" I heard Ariel apologize to a barrel as she accidentally bumped into it.

Then again, perhaps she doesn't strike a resemblance to my sister. I don't remember Adelaide being that blaringly stupid.

I seem to have this thing with attracting stupid people. Roxas. Ariel. Demyx. They all just fall in tow. I can't get rid of them. I attract them like a magnet.

Why oh why can't I attract a sultry blonde with bodacious attributes and an ample chest?

No, I get depressed best friends, gay dead people, and psychotic musical mermaids.

I think life has it in for me. Probably should have figured that one out when I, ya know, _died_ and stuff.

Luxord informed me of this paradox once, over martinis in Traverse Town (not that they _sell_ martinis in Traverse Town, but if you tip the juice bar tender off enough munny he'll usually pull out his secret stash.) He said to me, "Axel my friend, life is a bitch, and then you die."

I remember sitting there, starry eyed and mouth gaping. We, of course, are the only people who should be allowed to talk about life in such a pessimistic way because we are already, indeed, dead.

Of course, I could not listen to him foretell such precious words of wisdom without condoning him for his choice of vocabulary. Swearing is tolerable and all, but females deserve to be spoken of better.

"Geez Axe, you are one funny dude," Luxord muttered, stirring his martini with an out of place kiddy straw he located in the condiment container situated at the center of our table. "Too good," he finally concluded. "Too good for the villain stuff. You'd make a good boyfriend or something."

"Tell that to Demyx," I remember scoffing.

The light glimmered off of Luxord's large assortment of earrings as he sat pondering the words that had just recently escaped his poetically sly mouth. His brows knit together over his deep blue eyes and he scratched his chin, deep in thought.

"You want another drink, Axe?" he queried.

I nodded affirmatively.

Luxord and I had always gone out late at night to drink and discuss things beside world domination. He was a good man to bounce ideas off of, and also a ridiculously good card player (one of the few I will admit losing too) and I found myself somewhat missing the guy as I sat there and bobbed in the water like a humanized buoy.

"Oh! I'm sorry Mr. Ship Mast!" I heard Ariel apologize from the deck.

What was I going to do with her?

Not too far off, I heard the unsettling, feeble cries of 'help me' within my immediate proximity. I paused, wondering momentarily if I had finally cracked and gone insane. Then I heard it again, from the other side of the boat. I determined I was mentally stable and floated over to where the noise was originating. Sure enough, hidden in the shadows was a tied up fishing net holding more than five dozen unlucky sea creatures all flipping their fins and twitching their bodies convulsively, trying to break free of the rope bondage they found themselves in.

I spotted an obnoxiously shaded orange fish with mismatched flippers and a chubby face poking his scaly chin out of the netting. His bug eyes were shifting from side to side at an alarming rate, and he kept on yelling, "Daddy! Help me!"

I don't know much about sea life, but I knew that he wasn't Flounder.

Being the Good Samaritan I so humbly am, I floated over to the fish in question and tried to grace myself with a disarming smile. This never worked on the ladies but maybe the kids would appreciate it.

"You need some help there kiddo?" I asked.

The bug eyes shifted towards me. "A man..." he breathed, alarmed.

Not again. China Demon Minion had expelled the same words upon determining my species.

"Not quite," I corrected in a haughty manner, happy that I was not to be the recipient of another hot tea fiasco. "Merman. At your service. You look like you could use it."

"Could you let us go?" the tiny fish requested. "I don't want to die."

The plea was so soft and pitiful how could I not tear apart the net with my own personal brute strength the free the tiny children from their untimely demise?

"So, you got a name kiddo?" I asked while I worked at the twine separating us.

"Nemo," the fish answered proudly. "Aunt Dory was babysitting me but we got separated."

I finally ripped apart the netting and a hurricane of fishies came tumbling out into my lap...er, I mean fin. Nemo squealed with delight, thanked me profusely, and continued to swim off into the sunset in search of a very bad babysitter by the name of Dory.

She sounded a little strange.

Out of nowhere, a big, fat yellow blob fell into my line of vision and I immediately recognized it as the comrade we were so unfruitfully searching for.

"Flounder," I gaped, snatching him up by the tail and holding him at eye level above sea water.

"Lemmegolemmegolemmgo," he breathed, no pun intended, as he wiggled free from my grasp. He splashed into the ocean with a loud plop and I momentarily wondered if I should feed him to the rudder of the ship. It would make for some very amusing facial expressions. Maybe Ariel would even sing a song about it.

I begrudgingly went to the opposite side of the ship to inform Ariel that I found her lost friend and she could finally stop panicking. Now, do you think I arose to find her laboriously searching for Flounder amidst a collection of barrels and buckets? No. Do you think she was perhaps poking around for some decent clothing to cover herself with so I wouldn't be tempted into gawking? Wrong again.

I poked my head up to the deck of the ship to find Ariel, in all of her brazen naitivity, _flirting_, of all things, with some black haired sailor stark nude and blushing something terrible.

"For goodness sakes Ariel! You don't even have any friggin' clothes on!" I hollered from the side deck.

Ariel, alarmed, snapped her head in my direction, turned to kiss the aforementioned sailor hastily on the cheek, and darted across the deck and into the water.

"Nevermind that nutcase was about three steps and a stove away from cooking your best friend," I muttered off hand as Ariel reemerged to the surface.

"Oh, but he was so kind!" she answered breathlessly, a dreamy look invading her eyes as she swooned in the ocean. This swooning thing seemed to be universal among all women, though I have yet to see Larxene do it. I'm probably more likely to bare witness to Zexion attempting the feat when I tell him I had chick nuggets one night for dinner.

"His pants were too tight," I grumbled, feeling rather defensive. "He was probably a soprano. You don't want a soprano. The kids come out funny."

Though how they would ever go through the process required for making kids is beyond me. Ya know, I had posed this question earlier, and you all laughed at me for it. NOW it's relevant, is it not? See, I was just three steps ahead of everyone.

And they mocked me back in high school.

"Oh, by the way," I muttered off hand, letting the suspense build (for I was whole heartedly expecting to be lavished in praise for the next statement posed to escape my lips) "I found Flounder."

More screams. Then they burst out into song and dance complete with a musical interlude. I stood there and watched and begged to God Almighty Larxene was not within ear shot.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I was swimming so fast I thought my tail would catch on fire. I had to get human Ariel back to Ursula before she devoured my child and the sun burnt crab had a hernia.

That was a very awkward sentence.

Regardless, I had directed the vivacious red head to suck in her breath and hold it while I swam her back down to the sea witch's cave in hopes the transformation would take place before Ariel felt the urge to inhale.

I bombarded into the lair shouting at the top of my lungs, "Change her back, change her back! I don't do CPR!"

Ursula saw my predicament, seemed to take heed of the ridiculously blue faced Ariel in tow, and in response switched the humanized bubble head into a mermaid one instead. I released a pent up sigh of relief and then made my way over to where my poor, innocent child was being held against his tiny sea horse will.

Upon seeing me, he immediately broke out into a chorus of "Daddy Daddy Daddy!"

I turned to the octopus. "My child," I demanded. "Now."

Ursula shook her chubby finger at me. "Now we had an agreement Axel."

I paused, uncertain. "Um, yeah I know. Hence why I'm here. I'd like my kid back if that's alright with you."

"I said you could have your precious son back if you returned Ariel within one hour."

My jaw clenched. "You did not!" I protested like a whiny, dramatic three year old. So my age regresses about twenty years when I'm mad. Sue me.

"I believe that I did. And I also believe that you, my dear, can not prove otherwise."

"You forgot to sign a contract!" Ariel gasped from the background.

I rolled my eyes and readied my chakrams. I so hate fine print.

The twin stingy boogers started to hiss menacingly from the darkness, eyeing my weapons with glistening eyes and vicious smiles. I figured I could either do one of two things: beat the crap out of Ursula and her precious poopsies with my pin wheels of doom or use my cunning wit and astounding knowledge to strike up a witty compromise and defeat the sea witch in a battle of the tongue.

Just the fact that I even thought I could do that goes to show how intelligent I really am.

"Okay, okay, okay," I sighed, feigning defeat. "You win."

Squirt immediately started crying. It broke my nonexisting heart.

"You soulless jerk!" Flounder yelled from behind his beloved mermaid. I glared and told him to shut the heck up. Guppies shouldn't meddle with things when they have no idea what is going on.

"But I have an offer," I continued, ignoring Flounder's flattering outburst. "How's about you take my heart in exchange for my kid?"

Ursula paused, scratching her quintuple chins thoughtfully.

"Hmm, it's not every day someone offers their heart," she pondered, eyeing me up (again.) "I suppose that will do. Your heart for the life of your precious child." The sea witch then promptly began to materialize a contract.

Ariel let out a repressed scream from behind me. She darted to my side and threw her lanky upper appendages around my muscular torso. "No! I won't let you take my brother's heart!" she hollered, tears streaming up her cheeks.

"Ariel," I whispered through clenched teeth. "Go away. I got this under control."

"Take my heart instead!"

Oh goodness gracious. This girl ruins everything.

I could tell by the widening of Ursula's bug eyes that this was not good. A smile began to lurk on her face and she enthusiastically agreed to this newfound deal. Seeing such things happen in front of me, I quickly grabbed the contract and hastily signed my name at the bottom.

"Nu-uh-uh," I blurted out, jittery with the speed that was required to pull off such a spontaneous task. "I already signed the contract!" I then stuck my tongue out for juvenile emphasis. Squirt then mimicked my actions. I'm such a good influence.

Ursula's face paled in response. "What...no!"

"Haha. Now I would like to collect my kid, if you don't mind."

Ariel was inconsolable right next to me, sobbing up a storm.

Ursula floated over to the cage and unlocked at oblivious Squirt, who then darted over to me and kissed my cheek repetitively, completely unaware of what was going on.

I cupped the tiny scaly creature in my hands and cooed at it. I am nauseatingly sweet when it comes to little babies. Toddlers annoy me. But babies? They're cute. I have here by determined once my pyro children pass the age of five I'm trading them in for new ones.

Urusla sat across from me, on her throne of sea and doom and dead things, and prepared to summon my heart. I smirked in response to my untimely demise, silently chanting to myself 'I'm not gonna die, I'm not gonna die.'

There were some lights and some flashes and some fancy pyrotechnics (none which impressed a seasoned flame thrower like myself, though) and the next thing I remember was seeing Ursula's shocked face through the collection of smoke and haze as she stared, gape mouth, incredulously at my empty chest cavity as if she were expecting a thumping, beating, bloody heart to emerge and traumatize my child with the sight of his father permanently disemboweled..

And can we say run on sentence?

I suppose I always had the gift of blab, which is quite contradictory to Xaldin's eternal '...'s and Xemnas' incoherent lunacy.

"What is this?" Ursula cried in dismay, clasping pudgy hands to an even pudgier face.

"Maybe you're magic just sucks," I commented wryly, not about to admit that 'Wow, I lied, regardless of the contract. Please eat me now.'

"But Ursula's magic never fails..." Flounder whispered to the jittery crab who now had his claws clamped over his tremulous mouth.

I swear to all things holy I was going to be the death of that fat little fish.

"Face it. You're old, fat, and single. And now you're magic doesn't even work. I think it's about time you did away with yourself."

Wow. Did I just tell a Disney character to commit suicide? Is that _legal_?

Ariel paused. "I don't get it."

Surprise, surprise.

"Where is she supposed to put herself?"

I sighed. Not worthy of comment.

"Come on darling, let's go." I took Ariel's hand and started to lead her out of the cave, Squirt perched precariously on my shoulder. I casually called over my arm, as an after thought, directing the insult at the infamous, flabbergasted octopus, "I hear cyanide is the fastest way to go, by the way. That or just make an appearance at the local beach. I'm sure someone would be glad to mercy kill you."

And that is the state I left Ursula in. Now we know why she is a perpetual snitch. Because I wouldn't date her and told her she was worthless. Oh, the amazing power I have over the female race.

"Ew, let go of my hand. Your palm is all sweaty."

"Thanks, Ariel."

"Well it is!" She insisted, donning that ridiculous Roxas face that practically screamed, 'I can't believe you're questioning the wonderful words of wisdom that just escaped my mouth!'

"And how does such a perceptive mermaid, such as yourself, distinguish between sweat and the common place water?" I queried, arching a skeptical eye brow in a superior, haughty manner.

"Sweat smells," she remarked flatly, trying to wretch her hand away. I so enjoy being difficult sometimes. I just had to be careful Ariel didn't swim off and file a case for sexual harassment...not like she isn't asking for it with that obscene choice of dress she pretends is actually clothing.

"Are you saying I smell?" I ejected, feigning mock injury.

"Yes."

Blunt to the last. So blunt, in fact, I had no comment. Which seemed to be a reoccurring phenomenon for me these past for days, I must say.

"On that note," I begrudgingly stated, not wanting to bring up the inevitable. "Perhaps I should leave you and your smell-free home."

Ariel's eyes became glossed over. "What do you mean?"

"Flounder's back, I saved Squirt..."

"Yes. So you must stay here and raise him."

She said the latter in a command, leaving no room for further negotiation. Of course, bringing such topics to surface (no lame pun intended...hey, wait a sec, that was actually a pretty good one...) did make me realize one very significant predicament. Squirt. What was I going to do with that little booger?

"Hey kiddo," I murmured affectionately. I looked over my shoulder to see my son preoccupied with playing with some bubbles. Aw, cute.

Squirt looked at me, huge saucer like eyes glimmering underwater like electric factories.

"Daddy! I make bubbles go pop!"

I chuckled. I can't wait to spawn off little demon minions of my own.

"I can see that," I responded, beaming in the midst of his minor accomplishment. "Hey, Squirtie," I began, cupping him in my hands and placing him eye level with me. "What would you say to having Daddy go bye bye again?"

Oh, it pained me to say that. It pained me a great deal. And not a lot of things hurt when you're dead and don't have a heart. But leaving one's child, whether it be for a business trip or world domination...which I guess is sort of like a _giant_ business trip...it never hurts any less to tell your kid that you'll be going away for a little while. But, honestly, what could I offer him in comparison to this? A fish bowl. A tank. A cup of water. Compared to the ocean? What kind of life would that be for him? He'd have no fishie friends. He'd have no coral reefs. He'd have no scantily clad mermaids. It was best, for his sake, that he remain here. Even a selfish, egotistical man like me can see that.

Still. Doesn't mean it won't hurt.

"No," Squirt simply replied, continuing his infatuation with said bubbles.

"Squirtie, kid, that wasn't a question."

"No," he repeated, looking at me. "No, no, no!" He immediately bolted over to my face and latched onto my nose. "_My_ Daddy!"

"But you can stay here with barely dressed Ariel and her barely dressed sisters," I protested gently, trying to sway him to my side of thinking. Perhaps mentioning Ariel's lack of clothing articles was not the best way to go about this endeavor.

"Me want Daddy!" Squirt continued to wail. This time Ariel joined in.

"Ariel, you're not helping," I grunted, glaring at her. She sniffed in response.

"Sorry, I can't help it," she sniveled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

I, again, was rendered speechless.

"You can stay here with Ariel," I tried again, trying to pry the sea horse off of the cartilage covering the end of my ski slope nose. "She sings."

"No-ooo!" Squirt moaned, shuddering up something fierce. Any other idiot would have seen now, of all times, would be a perfectly good time to burst into song, but Ariel remained motionless across from me.

"But she's a really cool Aunt," I blabbered unintentionally. "She's you're Aunt Ariel. Who wears nothing but a bra."

Ariel's face transformed from one of sorrow to that of supreme joy at her new found title I accidentally bestowed upon her without really thinking.

"Aunt?" she repeated, flabbergasted and clasping her hands together. "That means...that would make us..."

I quickly saw the error of my ways.

"We're real life brother and sister!!!" _Now_ she chose to burst out in song. Amid her chirping and bellowing, I chose now to make my grand escape while my kid was temporarily preoccupied with the songs of the sea. I hastily swam as fast as I could to Saix's ship and threw myself into the cockpit.

I don't do goodbyes.

Was never any good at it. Besides, until you have a mermaid rip a sea horse baby from your masculine womb you have no right to judge my actions. So shut up. Now. I'm upset enough as is.

The minute I lugged my top heavy body into the driver's seat I was immediately overtaken by a series of intense shivers that permeated my body through and through. I could not see my lower half, due to the insane amount of shimmer going on, but in mere seconds I was transformed into a human again, pouch free and all.

For the first time in my life, I was overcome with the very odd sensation of desperately wanting to perform a split.

Not manly in the least. That's all Larxene needs to see me do. Walk in and find me practicing gymnastics on the floor. How about not?

I swallowed repetitively, trying to ignore the stinging sensations behind my corneas. I was going to miss that cute little kiddo. A lot. I was _so_ stopping by to visit every week or so. No, every weekend. Nah, scratch that, every other day.

I feel like the over protective father that fallows his child's bus to school. I need to get over this. Like, now.

I soundlessly closed the half submerged door to the cockpit and began to lift the Darkness off the ground. Yes, it floated and yes, it still worked. I was impressed. Ol' Emo here had managed to make the thing water proof. Probably to sustain all those angsty tears that he bleeds when writing his five star poetry. I know it almost made _me_ cry.

Even though I swore I would sooner go down with the ship than have my cold, dead fingers grace the 'ejaculation' button, I had somehow subconsciously developed a plan that involved the use of such a multi facet utility and saw no choice but then to close my eyes real hard and pretend I wasn't doing what I was mentally unable to swallow.

I fumbled with the seat belt and buckled in for the second time in my life. Then I slowly, painfully, hit the accursed button while I floated above the musical ocean and waited for the overhead door to spring open in preparation for a human form to come hurtling through in case of an emergency. My seat lurched, trying to expel me, but I remained glued to its vinyl (really Saix, I thought an emo god like yourself would have something much more sophisticated, like leather. Then again, that would mean you'd actually be comfortable, and God Forbid you experience real comfort for a minute, otherwise how would you gain fodder for your heart wrenching poetry?) as the seat swayed too and fro in a vain attempt to 'ejaculate' me out over the suspended air craft.

After the chair was done doing its dance, I reached for the controls and grabbed the joystick with my cold, clammy fingers. I then promptly maneuvered into a barrel roll position and grinned slyly as I watched all of the accumulated water poor out of the room through the open hatch situated in the roof.

If you ignore the fact hanging upside down for five minutes straight can be slightly wearisome, I considered myself a bonified genius for contemplating such things all on my lonesome.

Of course, I was all private smiles until I heard the far off, gurgled cries of an all too familiar sounding, "Daddy! Daddy! Help me!"

Eyes simultaneously bulging, I craned my awkwardly placed neck and saw my son clamping onto the edge of the roof with his two tiny flippers, wagging his sea horse tail back and forth trying to keep hold of the ship and not go flying into orbit.

"Squirt!" I hollered. "GAH! Hold on, Daddy's coming!"

I immediately, if not sooner, flipped the ship back around and applied the auto air brakes as I scampered to my child who had landed on the floor in one pathetic little 'plop.' I bunched him up in my outstretched hands and tried to shake him to consciousness.

"Squirt!" I cried, fear swelling up in my chest like a balloon. It was a sensation I was not used to feeling, I must admit.

"Daddy...?" Squirt moaned, bug eyes fluttering open as a grin slowly graced over his scaly little adorable face.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, trying to be all stern like a good parent should be but not being able to contain my joy. It's like one of those Lifetime movies that Xemnas is inexplicably addicted to where the mother embraces her runaway child after weeks of fruitless searching, probably enraged at them for leaving her for so long, but doesn't waste more than a second in scolding before gathering them up into a big, sloppy hug and forgetting all their past transgressions in a mere second of passing time.

Only difference with me is that I was experiencing this tough love emotion over a sea horse.

"I stowed away Daddy!" Squirt said all proudly, beaming like a hundred watt light bulb. "I go bye by _with_ Daddy!"

God Almighty himself couldn't repress my next smirk.

"You are _so_ my child," I commended, patting the little thing on his tiny head. "You don't do as you're told, you go against the rules, you sneak around, _and_ you have no respect for authority." I paused. "I am so proud of you!"

It was an odd parenting moment. Perhaps I wasn't cut out for the role of father just yet.

Squirt paused as he gawked at my lower half.

"Daddy..." he murmured, pointing to my legs. "You're naked."

My eyes widened in alarm. Turning deep crimson, I risked a glance southward to discover that now I was the one mooning the universe in all of my stark nudity.

Squirt's miniscule head cocked to one side as he jabbed a fin at my crotch.

"Is that what Ariel meant when she said 'thingie-ma-bobber?'"

I grimaced. I was so not ready to give a birds and bees lesson to a son that was neither of those two species.

"Um, Squirt, maybe you should hold on a sec. Daddy needs to find some clothes."

How could I have not noticed I was naked? I must have been so preoccupied with missing my stow away child that I didn't notice the pale flesh of my thighs staring back at me.

Oh gosh. I sat in Saix's seat. Naked.

The only suitable punishment for this is being diced and quartered and dragged around the five sections of Twilight Town by chocobo.

All of the sudden, without any warning, Squirt started to make gasping noises through his nose and convulse in tiny, twitchy movement on the palm of my hand.

"Squirt?" I expelled in alarm, my entire body tensing. "Kiddo, what's wrong?"

"...water!" he gasped. "I...need...water!"

Oh crap. Where the heck was I going to find water?

I never worked well under pressure. But rest assured, I was better than Demyx. I once bared witness to an intense checkers match between Leaxeus and Demyx. It got so close that the sitar player actually burst out in tears half way through the game. Roxas patted his back and proceeded to hand him tissues. I mocked the procession accordingly.

Now where was I? Oh, right, my son was dying due to asphyxiation.

You must know by now that he turns out fine. Otherwise I would not have side trailed about Demyx and his less than admirable checker playing tactics. Of course, I didn't know about such favorable outcomes at the time, so I was thrust into panic mode and ran around the ship in a naked, blind frenzy trying to locate water of some kind.

Of course, the impeccable timing of my comrades will never cease to amaze me. In the midst of my running marathon, the infamous black portal whirled open and expelled a very disgruntling looking Saix, blue hair, elf ears, deadly Lunar, and all.

"Axel," he boomed, marching to the center of the cock pit. "I demand a plausible explanation as to why on tarnation you thought you could get away with stealing my—"

Silence.

Saix's eyes befell me in all of my pale, albino nudity.

"Axel," he began slowly. "Why are you naked?"

"I need water!" I burst out, not caring that my partner had just witnessed me in the nude. "Water! I need water!"

"...did you light yourself on fire again?"

"No you stupid haired pretty boy!" I burbled, my witty factor dramatically decreasing in light of the current situation. "My kid is dying! Like, now!"

Saix stood there, uncomprehending and unmoving.

"Do I even want to know?"

"_Water_," I repeated emphatically. "_Now_."

Saix sighed and waved his hand in a 'come hither' motion and sauntered down the adjacent corridor I had not dared to venture in yet. I feared it housed more angst infested realms like self torture chambers and purposefully unaesthetic rooms.

I totted behind Saix, my bare feet gracing the hard metal of his ship as he took his sweet time in leading me to his private master bath in the sleeping quarters I would never have dared to wander into even if you had paid me all the munny in the worlds.

Not to make gross generalizations, but it is the female gender that predominately derives great pleasure from soaking in long, lavish bubble baths and consequently primping thereafter. Now, I am a sucker for personal hygiene, but for a man to have a built in spa in the back of his personal ship just...disturbed me.

It was an elaborate setting, the farther alcove housing a step up hot tub complete with messaging shower heads and dainty lace curtains. The sauna was conceived of pure marble and had a heated towel rack sitting precariously next to it. The toilet was of ornate gold finish, almost as if Number Seven took great pride in his bowel movements, so much so they should be mounted in an extravagant décor for further viewing pleasure if one so desires. I chose not to question the matter. If Saix wanted to contemplate the hidden meanings of his turds that's fine. Every male falls victim to it. I distinctly remember one time Roxas bursting into my room and wildly proclaiming, "Axel, you have _got_ to see this! I just crapped a poop that's looks _just like_ Luxord's gummi ship!"

Of course, Roxas didn't do such in a golden toilet of prestige, but to each his own I guess.

I hastily pitter pattered behind a languid Saix as he drew back the lace curtains and began to fill the circular tub.

"Saix..." I muttered, gawking at the sleek design of the surrounding interior. "I never knew."

"What?" Saix asked innocently, expertly testing the bath water for a precise temperature. "I find a nice hot soak exceedingly relaxing after a hard day's work of demolishing man kind."

I paused. Finding no words, I silently held a gasping Squirt to Saix's line of vision to further explain the urgency.

Saix made a slight face of confusion, his petite nose scrunching up in momentary disdain, and began to open his mouth but then quickly thought better of it.

"The water is now ready," he noted. "You may proceed to place your...child...in."

"Thank you," I blurted. "Now move."

Saix did as he was told, most people usually do when I give them orders, save Roxas and Larxene, and gently placed my dying kid within the realm of the personal sauna. Slowly Squirt's tense body began to relax and he began to breathe in the familiar hydrated oxygen through his mouth and nose. I smiled in relief as my child grinned up at me and said, half amused, with no consideration to the fact he almost died, "This water is yummy!"

There was an awkwardly placed silence as I watched my kid become accustomed to his surroundings and slowly begin to swim amidst the plethora of bubbles forming at the edges.

"Axel," Saix started, taking no time to appreciate this very heart warming scene. "Please put some clothes on."

I cringed at the thought that my milky white butt was now protruding high in the air for all to see and admire. Though, judging by the sound of Saix's voice, I doubt he was doing either.

Again, here is where the impeccable timing of my comrades comes into play. From the cockpit, I once again heard the portal whirling open, and the sounds of Larxene's unmistakable voice traveling down the hall. "For the love of God Axel, tell me you didn't have sex with a sea horse!"

Saix silently looked at me.

"Axel," he smirked. "I never knew."

"It's not like that," I began in a tremulous voice, extending one finger in the air. "I can explain."

I then heard Larxene's vicious clatter of footsteps begin to make her way towards the sounds of our voices.

"Honestly Axel, _where are you_?"

"Um, Daddy," Squirt petitioned, tapping a flipper on my half submerged hand. "You're still naked."

My eyes bulged. "Oh bloody hell," I breathed, frantically scanning the room for clothing of some kind, for my typical black trench coat was nowhere to be seen. "Saix, help me out here man."

"What do you presume_ I_ do about it?" he queried, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am not the one who decided to forego his garments."

"That," I punctuated, "was not a conscious decision."

"Axel," came Larxene's tart comment. "I can hear you."

Saix sighed, and after a long, contemplative moment finally decided to take pity on me during my time of need. "There's a bathrobe in the mahogany dresser over there," he directed off hand, indicating the furniture in question by pointing.

"Thank you," I grumbled, charging across the room and tearing open the twin wooden doors housing my last chance of human decency. Upon vicious griping around in the confines of Saix's strangely aromic armoire, I emerged with a ridiculously fluffy covering made of the most obnoxious fabric I had ever seen in both my lives.

"Saix," I dead panned. "It's pink."

The man arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow in response. "Only real men aren't afraid to wear pink."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"I am not."

"Daddy!" Squirt squealed. "The girl is coming and your thingie ma bobber is still showing!"

I gritted my teeth furiously and tried to mentally prepare myself for the string of insults that were bound to come hurtling out of the ever poisonous mouth of Larxene.

"I hate you Saix."

"You don't have to wear it," he remarked in a flippant tone. "You can always choose to go nude."

Oh gracious. If only Roxas could be here to witness this. He'd die. Again.

"I'm wearing it, I'm wearing it."

No sooner then I'd tied the knot did Larxene make her presence officially known by bursting through the master bathroom doors and coming to an abrupt halt as she gawked at me in all my pink fluffy wonder.

"Oh gosh," she breathed, face aghast. "You really are gay."

I stood there seething in my silence.

"Just so you know," I stated very matter of factly. "Only real men aren't afraid to wear pink."

"Where oh where could you have gotten than line from, I wonder?" Saix feigned from the corner, rolling his eyes at his own sarcasm.

"I am not gay, and I did not have sex with a sea horse," I listed off, walking towards Larxene but finding it hard to maneuver in such abundant fluffiness.

"Daddy, she didn't get to see your thingie ma bobber! Horrah!"

I grimaced.

"It talks?!" Larxene shrieked at the top of her lungs, backing away from the tub like Squirt was Leviathan pent up in a child's body.

"I have a bigger thingie ma bobber," Saix muttered under his breath. "You're nothing special."

"...oh my gosh," Larxene countered, the paleness in her cheeks beginning to be replaced with their typical red hue. "Like I really needed to know that Saix."

"Daddy, does she have a thingie ma bobber?"

"...you three are _such_ males."

"No, but she has two bobbers."

"AXEL!"

"Heh."

Squirt's eyes got huge as he poked his head over the side of the tub. "Daddy, what's a bobber?"

"I'm leaving," Saix announced before I could commence my own personal sex ed class, which would basically consist of nothing more elaborate then what comes up, what goes in, and what comes out. I'm sure it's less complicated in the sea horse world anyway.

"I expect my ship returned to me in pristine condition, Axel. Failure to do so will result in your untimely demise."

"...you're gonna let me borrow it?" I questioned incredulously.

Saix released a long, mangled sigh and rubbed his temples fervently.

"Originally, Axel, I'd inquire as to why you stole my ship in the first place, but seeing the predicament you are currently it, I think it's best I advise myself to not question the matter further, for fear of finding a truly horrific answer."

"He's borrowing your ship because he's trying to get laid," Larxene provided curtly.

"...like that..." Saix muttered, and swiftly sauntered out of the master bath. "Don't have sex in my bed," he called over his shoulder as an after thought. And then he was gone.

Larxene and I stared at each other momentarily in the awkward silence.

"You could always try the kitchen table."

"Larxene!" I hollered. "This is not a sexcapade! The mission was to find a girlfriend, not become a man whore."

"Oh shut up," she scolded mockingly as she made her way over to the bath housing my child. "Let me have my fun."

"You define this as fun? I'm doing this solely to prove my heterosexuality."

Larxene gave me a critical ice blue once over.

"And you are doing a fantastic job in that very masculine bathrobe."

"Hey," I began, voice pinched and simmering. "This thing isn't mine. It's Saix's. Why don't you go bother _him_ about his love life?"

For once, Larxene had no ready answer. Instead, she avoided the subject by leaning over the tub and peering in at Squirt.

"Daddy," he cooed, craning his bony neck to make eye contact with Larxene. "She's pretty."

Now, not many things surprise Larxene. Except for maybe Demyx saying something intelligent. And usually she can keep up her typical persona with great ease. But she seemed genuinely taken aback by my son's abrupt compliment, almost as if it was the first time she had ever heard such a thing concerning herself.

"...aw," she finally came back with, for the first time turning red not out of anger but humility.

"You act like no one has ever complimented your aesthetics before," I remarked, taking in the sight of a blushing Larxene staring glistening eyed at the cold alabaster floor.

"Well maybe no one has," she snipped, spontaneously becoming defensive. Ah, and the Kodak Moment was once again gone with the wind.

"Didn't you, like, have a boyfriend for God knows how long?"

Larxene chose to respond with silence.

Just as I was about to press the matter further, Squirt let out another death defying gasp and began to spaz involuntarily. My eyes twitched and I was once again thrown into panic mode. Only now Larxene was here to witness the spectacle.

"What's going on?" I cried, placing my hands on my head in a truly confused manner. "He's in water! I gave him water! Why is he still having trouble breathing?"

Larxene's lips were pursed and she was pulling at the zipper of her trench coat in her own personal way of displaying nerves. "I...I dunno," she stammered, eyes darting around the room in confusion that was equal to mine. "I mean, you put him in salt water—"

"Salt water?" I repeated.

Larxene glared daggers at me. "You imbecile," she steamed. "You put a sea animal in fresh water?"

My sagging mouth and befuddled expression confirmed her previous thoughts concerning my intelligence.

"Where am I supposed to get salt?" I shouted.

There was a high intensity moment as Larxene and I heatedly glared at each other in the midst of disaster.

"Can you two children do anything right?" a voice from the threshold oozed in a truly superior manner.

We both whirled around like Roxas' favored pink dradle and witnessed a tired looking Saix returning for further mocking purposes.

"My kid is dying!" I yelped. "Again!"

"Honestly Axel, did you have sex with a sea horse or a cat?"

Larxene's brow knit in further confusion. "What was that supposed to mean?"

Saix paused. "It was a joke," he dead panned in combination with a perfectly placid face. "Get it?"

Silence.

"No..ooo..."

Number Seven exhaled another pent up sigh. "A cat has nine lives," he explained simply. "A sea horse only has one. This is the second time Axel's child has almost died, thus making me believe he mated with a cat as opposed to a sea horse in order to reproduce an offspring that holds the previously explained vitality of—"

"Saix," Larxene cut in, all acid and tartness as usual. "Never tell jokes again."

I looked from Saix to Larxene with frantic eyes. "Um, hello? Kid _dying_ over here!"

They resumed paying attention to the one and only me.

Again, Saix let out another sigh. He performs that action enough to actually require the stretching of his vocal chords each morning. Almost as if everyone within the Organization bores him and he deserving of much more laugh worthy company.

I personally find Xemnas singing to himself in the shower hilarious. But then again, I am easily amused. Yet I have the attention span of about zero. Lemme know when you figure that one out.

The blue haired elitist made his way over to the elaborate shelving unit displayed above the ornate poop chute (which is my way of referring to the common place toilet.) He opened the twin doors of the cabinet, thus exposing a large assortment of various body lotions, hand creams, conditioning shampoos, and bath gems.

I don't know who was more disturbed. Larxene or me. Her eye actually twitched. It never twitches out of shock unless Marluxia is announcing pink _is_ his natural hair color. Which has happened approximately five times since I've known him. When we all stare at him incredulously he goes off and sulks amongst his flowers.

Saix extracted a pale pink bottle from the plethora of feminine necessities and approached, once again, the tub housing my suffocating child.

"Bath salts," Saix explained non chalantly. "Never leave home without them."

"You use bath salts?" Larxene muttered. "Cripes Saix. I'm a girl and even I don't use bath salts!"

"They exfoliate the flesh," he continued to explain, pouring a tiny bit of salt into the water. "And the aroma eases the spirits."

"Hey!" I snipped. "Don't be stingy with the stuff, my kid is keeling over here."

Said exhaled another pent up sigh that I'm sure was just dying to come out in my presence. "I'm sorry, but it just seems like such a waste. You kid doesn't even have any flesh to exfoliate."

"No, he's only dying," Larxene bit sarcastically. "That's so much better."

As soon as good ol' elf ears departed with more of his precious bath salt, Squirt came back to life again and began to breathe with much more ease than before.

"Now was that so hard?" I inquired, trying to be saucy and audacious in my hideously pink bathrobe. I'm sure the effect was lost somewhere amongst the frills and feathers.

"Pifft," Saix dismissed in all of his witty intelligence. He then proceeded to stand there awkwardly long after his deed was done.

"Um, Saix," I began, as we all stood there and gawked at each other. "You can leave now."

"Why should I?" he asked, pulling up a bronze plated chair complete with a pink down cushion. "I'm sure you two brats will need my help sooner or later."

I paused. And then I swallowed. Hard. How on tarnation was I supposed to explain the bonding time Larxene and I so habitually spent after every planet I visited without him coming to some nauseating romantic conclusion? Sure, the time we shared was nothing but abuse and insults, but it was the closest I've come to sharing laughter with someone since Roxas left. And stupid Pixie Reject had no right to destroy this fragile and unpredictable relationship Larxene and I were so awkwardly building all the for sake of protecting his bath salts. Looking at Larxene, I could tell she was thinking the same thing. We both wanted alone time...together. So what does the one and only suave chick magnet of the universe say when faced with such a looming threat?

"Leave or Larxene will do a strip tease."

Larxene's eyes bulged in response, and the familiar red tone of her skin was once again returned, along with her hair fingers buzzing and standing on end. She looked kind of cute that way.

"_What_?" she emitted in screeched tones, so horrifically so that I'm sure if we had any glass in the bathroom it would have shattered upon impact with her sound waves.

"Trust me, I'm only doing this to get him out of here," I whispered, all smiles.

Larxene snarled, clearly offended. "That's just the thing," she hissed, teeth clenched. "You expect my strip tease to scare him away?"

I swallowed.

"I'm so darn curvy, I bet I could even get Demyx to sit in and enjoy the fun!"

"Er," I stammered. I say all the wrong things at all the wrong times.

To this threat, Saix quietly pulled up the pink cushioned chair and proceeded to sit down with his hands folded silently in his lap.

"You _pervert_!" Larxene continued to holler.

"You girls confuse me," I muttered, rubbing my temples. She's offended if he leaves, but she's annoyed if he stays. There was just no pleasing this woman.

"I'm waiting," Saix responded expectantly.

Without warning, Larxene began to summon deadly electrical impulses that raged across her fingertips. Knowing the warning sign all to well, I quickly backed away so as not to share the same fried fate Saix was bound to endure if he didn't summon a portal and leave, like, now.

"Okay, okay, okay," I cut in, not wanting my child to witness the electrocution of another individual. "Leave or _I_ do a strip tease."

With that, Saix hurriedly bolted upright, summoned a portal, and left immediately.

I sighed in relief. But no sooner was I done exhaling did I notice Larxene resuming Saix's position on the chair and waited patiently with placidly folded hands.

"I'm waiting," she replied, all sugar and sadistic smiles in response to my confused stare.

I summoned my chakrams and readied a blazing inferno in the palm of my outstretched hand. "Don't tempt me," I warned.

Larxene, in reply, began to call on her own power of electric and was beginning to make a bolt form above her head aimed directly at the hole in my chest which used to hold my former existing heart.

"Don't tempt me either," she said saucily.

Ya know, there's always something exceedingly hot about dating a girl who could kick your ass in a fight. Of course, that time was not now and that girl was not Larxene, for she would do more than simply kick my ass. She'd probably fry me to a crisp and then dance around on my lifeless, charred corpse with great elation.

"May I remind you you're standing directly in front of water?" she pointed out, extending a newly clawed finger ready for last minute combat.

I glared. She had won by bitter sweet default. _So_ not fair.

Larxene sighed after witnessing my display of anger and her hair fingers drooped lifelessly the minute the bolt above her head dissolved into the air. "Don't worry Axel," she sighed, as if she had been expecting the outcome all along. "I knew you wouldn't really strip tease with your kid here and all."

"Oh don't worry!" Squirt piped in from behind me. "I've already seen Daddy's thingie ma bopper!"

Children. Don't you just love them?

"Thanks for the info kid," Larxene commented.

My comrade sighed and folded her arms over her ample chest that Saix never got to see. I could tell she was dying to say things she dare not emit in the face of a child. Personally, I found the whole spectacle rather humorous. I have finally discovered a way to keep Larxene biting her tongue. Oh, I was so thrilled with the prospect of bringing Squirt home with me.

"Cockpit?" I suggested.

"What a fantastic idea!" Larxene exclaimed, feigning shock at my ingenious proposal.

"Hey Squirtie, Larxie and I are gonna go outside for a minute, okay? You stay here and play with Saix's bath salts."

"Okie Dokie Daddy." Squirt nodded an affirmative. "Bye bye Pretty Lady!"

Again, Larxene startled, but quickly regained her composure. "He's growing on me," she muttered under her breath. I was tempted to inquire 'how could he not' but didn't want to upset the delicate balance that was commonly known as Larxene's mood system.

Once out of the master bath and teetering down the halls, I immediately bombarded Larxene with the preposition of food.

"Me want munchies," I stated, clutching my stomach. "Munchies munchies munchies!"

"Good Heavens Axel, you sound just like Roxas."

I don't think she meant to upset me—ahem, for once—but the latter still brought back feelings that I didn't feel like dealing with at the exact moment. I suppose she saw this in my face, for though I did not intentionally make it evident I guess such things are unavoidable, and quickly blurted out, "Did you really have sex with a sea horse?"

I glared. "Yes Larxene," I lied, voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness. "I had sex with a sea horse. In fact, I had so much sex with that same sea horse that I got sor—"

"So you're telling me that your son just miraculously popped up outta nowhere?"

"Hey, immaculate conception has happened once before," I pointed out, proud of my Sunday School knowledge. My mother was an avid attendee and always made sure her reeking pyro havoc son had his weekly Jesus dose of knowledge.

Larxene deflated. "That would require you being a virgin Axel," she retorted out of the side of her mouth.

By now we were at the cockpit and I had not come back with any banter to disprove her previous accusation.

"Ahem, I said that would require you being a virgin Axel," Larxene repeated, a little more loudly. "Feel free to argue otherwise at any time now."

I remained silent.

Larxene stood gaping at me. "_You_?" she articulated.

"You?" I shot back.

There was pause, a deadly pause, as my inquisition shot through the air between us like verbal cyanide. I could practically see the question cut through the defenses in Larxene's face as she slowly registered the new twist on the conversation. She stuttered for a moment, not a common action for her, and eventually settled with turning around and summoning a portal.

"Oh no you don't!" I spat out, grabbing her arm. She surprised me by turning around and lodging her clawed hand in my hair. We wrestled around the cockpit for a little while, her throwing herself into me, me tossing her to the ground, her stomping down on the tendons in my ankle (the portal eventually closed due to lack of use) and I somehow eventually managed to pin Larxene against the wall.

"That," she punctuated. "Is none of your business."

"Oh really now?" I asked as Larxene kneed me in the gut and sent me reeling to the floor. "I don't remember being the one to bring up this topic, darling."

Larxene loomed over me and stared down at my sprawled out position on the floor. I was not in a good spot for arguing. I was heaving, twitching, and sweating, all the while trying to summon enough flame that wouldn't be enough to kindle a boy scout's camp fire.

"You ask too many questions."

I inhaled sharply, trying to regain my composure after having the wind knocked out of me. Even though I was dying to inquire further, I knew better than to provoke an already audibly buzzing Larxene. Eventually her electric died down as she saw me clawing to my feet with no attempts of attacking her.

We have a very violent relationship.

We both admitted to a silent truce, for neither of us were in any condition to continue this waltz of destruction further, and we collapsed, both sweaty piles of reeking flesh, onto Saix's vinyl seats for further comfort.

"Air conditioning," Larxene breathed, fanning herself. "Need...air conditioning."

I obediently flipped on the switch that Saix thankfully simply labeled 'air conditioning' as opposed to 'ejaculation of cold air.'

That man was insane.

"I think I just burned some calories," I gasped, letting my head lolly back lifelessly against the head rest. Larxene is the only person I could come within three feet of killing and then chill with five minutes later like I never had my chakrams to her throat.

"You haven't killed anything in a while, have you?" Larxene inquired.

"Who am I gonna kill?" I chuckled at the absurdity. "My bad dates?"

"Usually you are quite the push over," my blond friend continued. "However today you were somewhat decent."

"I heard that," I grumbled.

There was a contemplative silence as we both sat there regaining our breath. All that could be heard was our desperate panting and the sounds of Squirt splashing around in Saix's beloved bath salts. "Weee! I make bubbles go pop!"

"So I see you failed yet again," Larxene noted in a clipped tone, wiping the perspiration off her brow.

"Aw, you're not gonna count that sexy sea horse I was lured too?"

"I think the deal was find a _human_ girlfriend, Axel. Not any female member of the animal species."

"Well what do you classify mermaids as?" I asked.

"Sluts," Larxene quipped.

I suppressed a wild grin. "They do lack...clothes."

"And brains," she finished. "Sorry Mr. Shipmast!" she mimicked in a high, pitchy voice.

"Hey, quit dissing the innocent," I pressured. "Just because they're not sadistic like you doesn't mean they are necessarily stupid."

"Oh really?" came the retort, matched with a raised eyebrow.

By now the air conditioning had worked its wonders and we were both basking it its utterly blissful coolness. The cockpit had dropped to about three degrees farenheight in a matter of five minutes.

"Hey Axel," Larxene began, in a voice so soft I almost thought I had imagined the partition. "You ever wonder what we did in our previous lives?"

I blinked a couple times to comprehend the abrupt about face in subject matter.

"I probably burned things," I muttered off hand, flicking some lint off the bathrobe.

"No, I mean, what we _really_ did. Like if we were decent people or not?"

I stopped and locked eyes with my partner. "Sounds like somebody's developing a guilt complex."

"No, somebody just doesn't have an amnesia lust like you do."

I glared.

"I think I stole stuff," Larxene muttered. "Like, from the candy store when I was five."

"Ooh, you rebel," I cooed sarcastically.

"I don't even think it was good candy. I think it was some kind of candy substitute, some kind of candy wanna be. I didn't know any better. Heck, the wrapper was shiny."

"So, of course, you were immediately enticed."

"Like you wouldn't be."

"I look beyond the outside package," I remarked keenly, avoiding eye contact for fear of a mocking response.

"But if it's shiny it helps," Larxene retorted. "Right?"

"If it's capable of having a decent conversation it helps."

Larxene paused and looked at me.

"...we're not still talking about candy, are we?"

I grunted, which is usually my course of action when I'm thrown into an uncomfortable position.

"They don't understand, Larx," I admitted, my defenses falling before her ice blue eyes, which at the moment, weren't all that icy.

"Whadya mean?"

"They don't understand what I'm going through. They don't understand where I'm coming from. They don't understand what it's like to lose everything and start from scratch. They don't understand what it's like to be _dead_."

"Well," Larxene began. "Then kill them."

"Your advice is astounding."

"I know."

I emitted a sigh, in total Saix like fashion, and turned off the air conditioner. It was starting to get down right frigid in here.

"I can't build a future with a human," I mumbled, defeated. "It's just not possible."

Larxene's brow furrowed together. "I thought this was just a bet to prove your heterosexuality, not find a future wife."

"You knew damn well I was straight," I snipped with a smirk on my lips. "You just enjoy seeing me miserable."

"No," Larxene corrected. "I enjoy seeing you as a sea horse, though."

"Pifft, screw you."

Larxene dismissed my insult with the flick of a certain finger.

"Actually, I really did wonder about your orientation sometimes..."

"And you never questioned Marluxia's?" I baffled. "That's not fair."

"No, I already _knew_ Marluxia's."

I grinned at the memory. I wonder what that fruit cake was doing right now anyway?

See, this is what I need. A person I can vomit my soul too—not the most poetic way to say such but it got the point across, now didn't it?—and share my inner feelings with but not have them gawk at me with round, gooey sympathetic eyes and coo meaningless 'I'm sorry's at random intervals in the conversation. That annoyed me. I do not enjoy being patronized. I also don't enjoy dwelling in my own angst and dragging someone down with me. Keep it light. Keep it casual. And keep it funny. Larxene was good at this. Roxas used to be good at this. Until he went all, 'wah-I-have-no-soul-life-sucks' on me.

But this? This was a decent conversation. This was nice. This was fun.

Well, if you ignore the depressing subject manner.

"So you want a dead chick?" Larxene asked.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Well, if species doesn't bother you a whole new horizon of variety opens up."

"Ha ha ha," I dead panned.

"Xemnas is always recruiting new flesh," Larxene commented, trying to look like she wasn't intentionally trying to cheer me up but I appreciated the masked effort none the less. "The other day he picked up some twiggy chick named Namine. Of course, she looks like she's, like, twelve, so if you were into pedophilia along with beastery you'd have a great opportunity."

"Um, thanks but no thanks."

"She's a little strange anyway," Larxene muttered. "She's always doodling with these crayons..."

"Is she twelve or two?"

"I dunno. I think she's just bored. I offered to teach how to de-gut someone's spinal cord the other day but she turned down the offer."

"I wonder why," I curtled, grimacing at the lovely mental image of Larxene playing jump rope with someone's detached vertebrae.

I stopped for a moment, a strange thought marching merrily through my brain.

"Are we having a conversation?" I blurted, alarmed but not displeased by this phenomena.

Larxene bristled. Crap, looks like I have succeeded once again in making her one hundred percent uncomfortable. Heck, I'll turn it into an insult. That's always familiar territory.

"Because, ya know," I started. "I never thought you were intelligent enough to have one."

"...dick weed."

"...thingie ma bobber weed," I corrected.

And she laughed.

And it was the most beautiful laugh I had ever heard in my entire existence. It was airy and light and soothing. It was pure and lovely and heavenly. It was grace and lolly pops and dandelions. It was the sun coming out from behind a cloud on a rainy day. It was the rainbow reflection in a muddy puddle of oil. It was a luminescent light in the darkness.

And it was for me.

I gave in and laughed at my own joke, simply to join in on the fun. For a moment, it didn't matter that we were dead and our after life sucked. For a moment, it didn't matter that we no longer had hearts to speak of. We had each other and that was enough.

"Dadddddy! I got soap in my eye!"

"I believe your child is beckoning," Larxene noted, stating the obvious.

"Don't worry Squirtie, Daddy's coming!" I shouted down the hall, bounding out of my seat—regretful to leave but knowing Larxene mood changed with the weather and she could be tormenting me in the next three minutes—and charged down the corridor to the master bath where my kid was gripping at his bug eyes and wailing my name.

"You need to flush it under the faucet," I smirked, approaching the side of the tub, unable to hide my laughter even though I'm sure it wasn't all that amusing for Squirt. He just looked so cute and vulnerable with one eye popping out of its socket and the other one clamped shut. He kept trying to rub he's left eye with his fin but it was too short to reach.

I proceeded to carry out the duty as Larxene watched over my shoulder.

"Ya know, I'm rather jealous of this bath," she muttered, scanning the facility.

"You could have had one of these installed too," I pointed out, gently rubbing the soap out of Squirt's eye with my thumb. "It's you own fault you opted to go with a personal torture chamber."

"Hey," she snapped. "I torture people who deserve to be tortured."

"Oh and who would that be pray tell?"

"Pedophiles. Wife beaters. And rapists."

"...well, can't argue with you there."

"I castrate them all."

I laughed. "You are officially my hero."

Squirt looked up at me after I was done removing the burning substance from his ocular vision. "Daddy," he began, like he was asking a question. "What's a ped-i-file?"

"Larxene," I scolded out of the side of my mouth.

"What? He should know!"

Larxene knelt down by the side of the tub and patted my son on the head.

"It's someone who deserves their penis ripped off."

"Larxene!" I repeated.

Squirt stared with glazed eyes, uncomprehending. Thank God.

I began to shove her out of the master bath. "Shoo, before you teach my son more than he needs to know."

"Over protective parental unit," Larxene grumbled.

I chased her out into the hallway and slammed the double doors behind her. I pity the children Larxene mothers.

"Soo-oo," I drawled after a moment of awkward silence, which befell us quite a lot during our times together. Probably because we were always debating on whether or not to insult or compliment each other every time we opened out mouths. With Roxas, there was never any silence. The kid was a running commentary. 'Blagh blagh blagh—Axel, did you hear the one about the crazy man and the canary? Blagh blagh blagh—Axel, do you think Adam and Eve had belly buttons? Blagh blagh blagh—Axel, are my feet too big? I think they're too big. You're feet aren't big. Why can't I have your feet?' And so on and so forth. With Larxene it was more like 'I hate you. Pause. Hey, you're kind of funny. Pause. I really want to rip out your jugular vein. Pause. At least I feel like I have a friend when I'm with you. Pause. I just wish you'd drop off the face of the world right now.' Mhmm. My relationships are ever so convoluted. Thankfully I only have thirteen.

"What scantily clad sea animal did you become in Atlantica?"

Larxene feigned stupidity. "Huh?"

"Oh drop the act, drama queen," I muttered. "I know you were spying on me."

"What...what gave you that idea?" she fumbled, clearly flabbergasted.

"Excuse me Mr. Shipmast?" I repeated for her.

Silence. She had been caught. Bwa ha ha ha.

"...a jellyfish," she said flatly, squeezing her eyes shut at the memory.

"A jellyfish?" I repeated incredulously.

"Yes. A jellyfish. A frickin' jellyfish. At least I could still use my powers."

"You _sure_ you turned into a jellyfish?" I questioned again.

"Yeah...why?"

"Oh, nothing," I said with a smile, putting my hands in my bathrobe pockets and staring innocently at the ceiling. "I just figured you'd turn into something more resembling, like a walrus or something."

The hair fingers stood up.

"Oh why you little...little..."

She's so cute when she's about to bite my head off.

Though, I do still appreciate my head and would like to have kept it for the time being. Thus I summoned a portal, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shoved her through it without even saying goodbye.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AN: Aw, come on, who hasn't wanted to castrate a pedophile? Vixen has. (Nods.) I think I made a separate War And Peace out of the Organization ship scene alone. Saix was such a joy to write (nudges Espeakus.) I could not resist. His perpetual sighing and big flowy words...ah, it was insane. I tried to work Leaxeus, Marluxia, and Luxord in there to the best of my ability, since they have been among the neglected so far. Then again, so is Vexen, but he shall continue to be neglected, since nobody loves him and he frustrates me. (Glances around nervously.) Are there any Vexen fan girls out there? Oh, forgive me if there are. Leave a review, tell me why, and perhaps I'll change my way of thinking and throw him in there as well.

The Pride Lands flashback was not forgotten. I'm going to finish it next chapter. I was already smashing so much together in this particular one I didn't want to throw that in there as well. I haven't decided on what animal to make Roxas and Axel yet. Note to self: ponder later. Now it is time for the infamous cyber cookies!

Goodness. May I point out this chapter was completed three weeks ago but it took my twenty one days to finish off the cookies?

COOKIES

(Hands Writer a sugar cookie with abundant sprinkles.) Awkwardness in crying! Yes, I could see Axel acting in no other way. It bothers his non existing heart, no matter how much he vehemently denies that he has one. I never got that far in KHII, so I never experienced the paradoxal locket scene or fighting Ursula for that matter. Perhaps I should go back and try such things in my free times. Hee, Squirt. I figured if I made him pregnant I might as well have him give birth. (Arnold Swartz-My-Governor? Mario laughed uncontrollably for hours.)

(Hands Admiral some fudge pops and a slew of cookies.) Horrah, my skitso chapter fared well, I am ever so pleased. I love going from funny to serious all in the time span of three seconds. And to know I can pull such things off elates me greatly. You adore Squirt! YAY! (Sticks tongue out at Mario in pure mockery.) As for Vexen crying, I have no rhyme or reason...I had to throw him in there somehow, lol. Ooh, I added for Luxord. Happiness for you! Thanks for the Curaga!

(Gives Kamikaze a bucket of pudding and some raisin cookies.) Axel and Roxas are both indeed maniacs, hence why it is so much fun to write them. Computer flirting...wow, I have no idea how much insanity I needed to inspire that one. There must have been a full moon out or something. I dunno, lol. Horrah for siblings! And, of course, the sea shells bit. Thank you for your concern.

(Hands Arwen a happy handful of mint cookies.) Yes, Axel is rather protective of his young, now isn't he? LOL. And vain will always be his personality, what can I say? It's just a part of him, like white is to rice. And whatever provoked me to have Roxas squeal the word 'weee' is beyond me. (Is weee even classified as a word? No, didn't think so.) Glad you enjoyed this chapter so much!

(Gives Fantasie some cute little tiny cookies made into the shape of precious little musical notes.) Squirt is ever so poetic, I bet even Hemmingway is jealous he didn't think of that one. (Pumps hand in air for victory dance out of elation for good adjective usage.) I'm glad the character motions were fluid, that is always something I stress over. Nice to know you have eased my worries. Heh, Flounder being in netting with Nemo. I love it when reviewers suggest brilliant things like that (I couldn't take credit for it, pooh.) BLOODY HELL! LOL! I'm addicted to that phrase, and I'm not the least bit British what so ever. I just like chanting it over and over and over again for reason unknown to mankind. Glad I am not the only one!

(Glomps Chiberei with those perfected chocolate chip cookies right out of the oven with soft, gooey centers and even gooeier chips. How does one go about spelling gooeier anyways?) Axel is a seahorse who calls himself a merman because it hurts his pride to associate with the seahorse race, lol. Thank you so much for you compliments and capitalized concern!

(Hands CrazyFFKH a bunch of handy dandy oatmeal cookies.) Hahahaha, Squirt was funny and disturbing! This amuses me. I can't imagine your reaction to this chapter. My brother probably enjoyed it when he almost died, lol. I give you weird mental images, don't I? Roxas in a frying pan, Axel with bottle cap glasses...now he's wearing a pink bathrobe! LOL, Axel and his masculinity, even in feminine situations. Repercussions Of Masculinity. Somehow it doesn't have the same ring to it. Axel is going to be VERY emotionally scarred after this adventure. Thankie for the five star rating!

(Dumps a truck load of goodies on the unsuspecting head of the lovely Constance Greene. Among these goodies are those precious little mint chocolates one finds on the pillows of their hotel room in Disney World.) Oh your reviews amuse me so and brighten my otherwise boring days. Ariel's word choice...I'm glad someone picked up on that! I rewatched the movie before writing these chapters, and I'm so happy it paid off. I'm like, no one is going to remember that line from the movie, and lo and behold, you did! (Insert Happy Dance of appreciation here.) I have a confession to make: I got jealous of Ariel when Axel called her sweetheart and I'm, like, the author. I could have had him call her something far less complimentary but it would totally ruin the flow of the story, don't you think? Referring to her as, "Barely dressed skank!" probably wouldn't have been very benevolent. And with no benevolency, how does one feel for the character? Yes, that was my logic to calm my jealousy over fictional situations that I myself made up. Albino! Ha! You probably loved this chapter, what with his 'white milky butt.' Aww, I'm glad my Axel manages to be adorable. I would SO be interested in seeing how you write Axel. I know you have Riku down pat. I do so try to make Axel adorable on occasions, and I'm glad I am some what successful. And yes, Axel really was pregnant. It was a last minute decision on my part. I can not wait to see your reaction to this chapter concerning Squirt. (To this day I have no earthly idea who the mother is. It was a spur of the moment Vixen has been fed to many goodies thing.) LOL, Squirt and singing would fail if it were anyone else but me! Thankies!!! Oh, and thankies for letting me share Axel with you, I know how hard that must be. Happiness, I make Roxas adorable! He annoyed me somewhat within the game, all emo and angry and grrrrr, so I made him chipper, kinda like Sora, since he is, like, his nobody and all. Some of that must carry over into the after life. Piftt, emails aren't old school. I adore emails from you! Hahahaha, I'm glad these reviews are so much fun for you, for they are such a joy to read. Indeed. Gah, don't lock me in a room away from hospitals! While I hate hospitals with every fiber in my body, I need my painkillers!!! LOL! Ooh, Marluxia. And Zexion. I shall keep that in mind.

(Hands Erik some smiley face sugar wafers bundled from Sam's Club...that way I can buy in bulk and you get twice the amount of wafers for the price of one.) I almost made a man squeal! Horrah! My life is now officially complete! I danced around in response to your compliments, that was so very nice of you and I am so very honored. Oh gracious, there were NO Organization moments in KHII! It made me furious. I felt bad for the brilliant little Japanese man who came up with all thirteen character designs and had all of his characters killed off within five minutes of their introduction. Poor guy, all that blood, sweat, tears, and pixels...only to be demolished without a second's thought by over zealous video game players. I tried to put off killing the members as long as I could, but eventually it grows inevitable. Oohie, I put some Luxord stuff in here. Yes, drinking martinis in Traverse Town. I'm sure that possible in the Japanese version. Disney probably made them take it out for America, though. I shall have to play Final Mix and see. Pifft, don't apologize for long reviews! I adore them! They make my day...heck, week.

(Gives Media Madien a whole bunch of peanut butter cookies.) Gah, death threats lest I make these Mermaid chapters amusing! I do not want my head shoved in a toaster! (Cringes.) Then I'd have these funky lines on my forehead and I'd be all brown and crispy. Then cannibles would eat me. And the story would never get finished, which would be sad. Ah, another person who appreciated the randomness commonly known as Squirt, hurrah! Oh, lemme know when I can have Demyx back. I'm sure he loves your basement but I need to borrow him for my story, lest he never be mentioned again. Hee, thanks for your lovely compliments and tin of sugary stuff that made me feel all warm and tingly inside.

(Hands Synthetic Smile a grab bag full of Chips Ahoy.) This was your favorite chapter? Really? Cool! Ha, Adelaide being an OC. Yeah, I was worried about that too in the beginning, but then I figured she's, like, seven, so people can't accuse me of a Mary Sue (since I am not, indeed, seven. Though I do act like it sometimes.)

(Gives Xemagirl some cheese danishes and a cookie.) YAY, a Squirt fan! Well, Axel got a bath tub, so no need for a fish tank. I'll never know what inspired me to do the mpreg, but I'm glad you liked it regardless!

(Dumps a bag of left over Halloween candy on Golden's head.) Your review made me giggle nonstop. I went trick or treating too! WOOT! One is never too old for free candy. Never ever. You comments concerning my 'etiquette' way of writing had me on the floor convulsing in laughter while blushing in humility. It was an odd combination, but I thank you for it none the less. Wow, Luxord is a huge hit. You're like the fifth person in love with him. I shall include him more then. Ariel and Roxas are very much alike now that I think about it. Hm, that's interesting. Thanks for pointing that one out. I'm so dense I don't even pick up on things in my own story. LOL, Xemnas. I am DYING to write a good Xemnas scene. I threw him in this chapter a little bit, what with his Lifetime movie obsession and all (and his habit of singing in the shower.) Axel with a shampoo mohawk sounds like a ridiculously good idea for some fan art. Hm, I just may have to start drawing.

(Hands Angel a spearmint cookie of happiness.) Oh, I hope you didn't hurt yourself when you fell of the chair! Glad to see you enjoyed the chapter!

(Gives Forgotten a fun fun oatmeal cookie.) HA! I love your idea about meeting Annabelle in Space Paranoids! I dunno if Axel will be venturing there, but OMGOSH wonderful idea none the less! Oh, and yes, I've been dying to scream at Ariel 'It's a fork, woman!' for the past ten years. Now I finally have. I am complete. Thanks for the compliment!

(Hands Nocturnal some espresso brownies and the habitual caffeinated beverage.) Horrah for sibling moments and Squirt! Ha ha Mario, lookie, another Squirt fan. I'm so glad. I was itching to write something in the voice of a child, hence Squirt spawned out of...somewhere. Still haven't figured that one out yet.

(Gives Aspirations some bite size Oreos.) Oh how I loved writing Axel when he was being uncharacteristically tender to his child. It made me all warm and tingly inside! I think he really would be ridiculously tender to those he loved...and then try to cover it up moments later. It's so terribly amusing to read and write though, isn't it? Thankies for your very nice compliments!

(Buries Splat in gaboodles of Christmas time goodies, but mostly Candy Canes.) So I absent mindedly was checking my email when your review popped up and my jaw promptly hit the floor. Better than most published authors you say? You have no idea how gleeful that made me. I was hoping around on cloud nine for a week. Nah, make than a week and a half. I specifically remember bobbing up and down in my seat and waving my hands in the air under the influence of pure elation. I adored your description of Ariel and Axel's relationship—EXACTLY what I was going for, and I am ever so joyful that I was able to obtain it. LOL: Cinderella. She was forever be remembered by me in the light you have previously painted her in. Your words, my friend, are notorious. I shall never forget them. Oh, and yes, Jack's singing voice is indeed sexy. Gah! I checked out Rapunzel on Wikipedia! Kristin Chedowith is doing the voice of the leading heroine! Oh happy day! For those who do not know, she is the lady who was in the OBC of Wicked on Broadway. She was Galinda, and kicked butt in doing so. Needless to say, I am ever so excited to find out Rapunzel will be having a decent actress voicing her. WEE! My favorite Disney movie would have to be, without a doubt, Hunchback of Notre Dame. Holy. Crap. Best movie EVER. It doesn't get the attention it deserves, and I can go on a psychological rant as to why, but perhaps that is better saved for email, lest I will sound a tad bit strange. Not that this story makes me sound anything close to normal but...well, normal is boring. Blagh to normal. TWELVE YEAR OLD PIMP IN TIGHTS! **HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA**! Most amusing thing I have heard all month! Your sense of humor is priceless. Priceless.

(Hands Espeakus bunches of Saix shaped macadamia nut cookies. Yum.) You have no idea how happy you made me by referring to my writing as intelligent. I was, like, glowing for hours. Hours, I tell you, hours. I was radiant. I was sparkling. I was luminescent. I was very, very happy. Me be smart! YAY! Heh, Ariel crying satisfies you. Hilarious. I should write you a one shot in which Ariel meets her untimely demise by...hmm, well, you chose. It'll be your one shot. What way would you most like Ariel to die? I can't believe I just asked that. I'm a bad Disney fan girl. Bad bad bad. So how did you like my SAIX ADDITION? This was the surprise I didn't tell you about! Whee! I wrote this with YOU in mind. I was all like, Espeakus will love this. The entire time. Heh. OMGOSH, Ariel didn't annoy you as much and Ursula did? I know how hard it must be for you to say that and I...I...I...wow. Just, wow. I didn't know I was capable of such feats. My life is now complete. I can die happy. Oh, and you are not a suck up! You are helping my naturally low self esteem. Very, very much so. (Drinks up given milk.) Thank you for your seemingly endless supply of compliments. Best Christmas present ever.

(Gives Pikachu some ice cream sandwiches.) I made you spit out water? YAY! I am so happy! I hope I did not ruin your keyboard, though. For that I would be sad. And feel responsible. And owe you money. Yeah, bad things. But keyboard aside, I'm glad I hold the ability to make you spew on demand! I adored your list of things you liked. It helps so much. I now know what is a hit and what I should add more of in future chapters. Horrah for amazing reviewers, like you! I am so very honored you felt compelled to share this with a friend. Wow. I'm glad she liked it! Thank you for spreading the wonderful word of Axel!

(Hands Ri a bucketful of sugar cookies.) Ah yes, you shall be learning more about Axel's life. EEGADS, Ursula, pregnant? Oh, it burns, it burns! Make it stop! I have no idea what I was thinking when I decided to bestow a sea horse child upon Axel. None of it makes any sense. Blame sugar. I do. I just, once again, took literary merits and did things the way I wanted to without and rhyme, reason, or explanation. I tend to do that a lot. Haha, Axel did take Squirt with him. I can never look at a bath tub the same way again. HAHA, the bends! I never thought about that! I have no idea how Axel programmed his computer, but rest assured, he did. He's just the type of quirky guy to do something like that, too, don't you think?

(Gives Roxas some yummy, scrumptious tootsie rolls.) Words can not express how honored I am to be thought of as the 'best KH2 fic ever.' And yes, Axel is too hot for his own good. I most definitely concur. Thank you so so so much for your gracious line of compliments. They made my life.

(Hands StoryWeaver a wheel barrel full of lolly pops.) MWA HA HA! You like Squirt! You care about him! You have feelings for him! Oh, my life is complete! My goals are accomplished! I am so very, very happy. I love it when reviewers say just what I want to hear. Or, technically, read. LOL: Eric. I always presumed Eric's pants to be too darn tight. They always looked like leotards to me. Or leggings. Something a sailor should not be wearing. You can see more of his curves than Ariel's. It's disturbing. It should be illegal for men to own a pair of his pants. Hence Axel's comments. (Those aforementioned comments were inspired by you, of course.) Axel is such a boy scout. Luxord even notices is. And when Luxord notices it, while digesting a martini, then you know it's obvious, right?

(Gives Senbazuru a entire sink full of Hershey bars. I envy.) Your review made me laugh out loud, which is always something I am terribly grateful for. I enjoy shiny things too. Things that glow in the dark? Aw man, I can stay captivated for hours. I'm sure Demyx would follow suit. We both be staring goo goo eyed at luminescent objects, shoe strings of drool hanging out of our mouths. You choked? Gah, don't die on me! I don't want to be convicted of involuntary man slaughter. Horrah, my flashback was decent! I always worry about those things. And you like Ariel better than the movie version? Oh, blessed be your soul. I feel overcome with jubilation. WOOT! Peanut butter and chocolate chips! (Gobbles up greedily.) Blessed be your soul. Again. And your mysterious duffel bag of cookie wonderfulness.

(Hands Minnet some wonderful raisin cookies of joy.) I'm glad you can relate to preemies being ripped out of your friend's womb. Tell me, was it a sea horse? I made you laugh four times? Wow, I feel honored. Haha, Ursula being slutty...ya know, I had to rewatch the entire movie to figure out how to write her. I also harbor secret hatred for her because she was such a pain in the butt to defeat in KHI. Hence my string of insults. She deserved them. Took me, like, six attempts to beat her. I've called her worse things than merely slutty, believe me. LOL: Vexen pouting! It sends shivers down my spine, it really does. (Shivers for emphasis.) HORRAH! I'm a favorite! Thankies x A Million!

(Gives Kikofreako some spork requiring articles of food like...um...what do you eat with a spork anyways? Ah well, here, have a cookie regardless.) Larxene was paranoid Axel had sex with a sea horse. Yup. I think that frightened her more than anything else. That and the fact that the kid can talk. That freaked her out too, LOL.

(Hands Akiraine some warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies straight out of the oven. Yum.) YAY, I helped someone procrastinate! My purpose in this life is fulfilled. Hope your schoolwork got done...eventually. And I'm so sorry about the tea! Now I owe you a new computer. I should have people sign a waver before reading my story, it is apparently very dangerous to technical equipment, for someone else spewed out their beverage whilst reading a chapter. I feel horrible! Poor, innocent computers! Three cheers for vegetarians! And Sexy Zexy! Ah, precious little Demyx. I have fallen in love with him while writing this story. Hence my urge to write a fiction totally about him. I started out not caring about him too much, and the closer I got to completing the story (not that I'm all that close at all) the more I developed feelings for the cute little sitar player. LOL: "I'm sorry, come back!" Alas, it is what I yelled when Axel began to fade. Tears. I am so so so happy that my story is funny as opposed to senselessly stupid, which was my goal entirely (to be funny, that is, not stupid.) Ha, I always feel guilty when I disappear for long amounts of time without telling anyone, hence my profuse apologies at the beginning of every chapter. Thank you for your concern, it really does make me feel better to know there are people out there who care.

(Gives Anortheunbound a cookie with sprinkles.) LOL: Don't eat Squirt! Have no fear, he was not digested! He nearly died due to asphyxiation, but that's all. He lived, and is now happily residing in Saix's master bath, playing mindlessly with his salts. Hahaha, yes, Roxas' stupidity is a tad over done, but then again most things are when it comes to comedic value, LOL. Glade to hear the Adelaide episode was cute!

(Hands Shizuka a ginger snap cookie.) I got Adelaide from the musical Guys and Dolls. It was the name of one of the lead characters and I thought it sounded so pretty and foreign that I decided to steal it. Also, it sounds good in conjunction with Axel (possibly because they both begin with the letter 'a.') I never hear the name utilized much, much less anyone in real life being called such, so I decided to give it a shot. I'm glad you like it. LOL: J- Rockers! Axel does drop his charades around Roxas, doesn't he? Well, most of them anyway. Not all of them because, well, he's Axel, and will always be macho to some extent. You sibling conversation helped ease my fears wonders, and thank you so much for taking the time to type up an example. I dunno about pairing Roxas up, it's an interesting thought, though. I'll have to ponder it.

(Gives Anonymous ten million bags of Skittles and a cookie.) OMGOSH x 10 Billion. Number One on your favorites list? (Can't breathe...consequently dies soon after.) WEEE! I'm so happy! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! That officially completed my life. Like, seriously. I made you favor certain members of the Organization? Oh, happy day! I'm sorry I caused you to asphyxiate. I hate killing off my readers, it makes me quite sad. It was unintentional, I swear. HA! Another Squirt fan! (Mocks Mario accordingly.) Ooh, a high five! (Attempts to make contact, misses because Vixen is a klutz.) Thank you for your hospital concern. I shall keep your kind words in mind always. Aw, it's a pity you chose to remain incognito. I'm sure you could write excellent fictions if you so chose to, considering your reviews are very well written and thought out. I did try to throw in a tad of Lexaeus in here with the whole checkers playing bit. Again, it wasn't a lot, but I plan on including him more in future chapters. And yes, Axel died when he could legally get drunk. So technically he isn't breaking any rules by smashing himself in the after life, now is he?

(Hands Padfoot a happy bundle of oatmeal cookies.) I have had long discussions concerning Xaldin with Espeakus. We converse about him at length, and yes, we both agree he is lacking in attention, hence why I decided to have him steal the spot light on occasions. LOL, I put Larxie back in the chapter. I put a lot of her in it, actually, now that I think about it. Not that you would mind that or anything. And yes, she is indeed crazy.

(Dumps a whole slew of smiling gingerbread men on Hope's head and dances around in jubilation due to her customary lengthy review.) Oh how I have missed thee! It has seriously been way too long. LOL, and you are greeted with Axel spawning off spring. I would have made the salutations a little less traumatic if I knew you would be appearing. But then again, you seem to approve of Squirt, as you do the sibling relationship, so all is well. OMGOSH HADES. Favorite. Villain. Of. All. Times. Yes indeed. I am glad to know I am not alone in my infatuation. It is shared with Hope. Demyx x Ariel? Wow. Ya know what, that could work! The way you worded it, it seemed so...so right. WRITE IT. I command you! I would be a desperate fan. Oh yes I would. LOL: Sebastian is Wakka stuck in a shell. You have no idea how hard I laughed when I read it. Oxygen. I needed oxygen. As I did when you admitted to pairing Axel up with other woman besides Larxene, only to admit it was yourself. Hee. Thank you for concern, and long live singing into the infamous hair brush any girl with an ounce of estrogen has fallen culprit to at one time or another.


	12. Olympus Part One

"Oh my _gawsh_!"

Someone was hitting me.

"Axel, wake up. No, seriously dude, wake up."

Hard. Someone was hitting me hard.

"Puhleeease? You have got to see this!"

Repetitively. They were also hitting me repetitively.

"I've got a friggin' tail!"

I remember my eyes slowly coming into focus and the first thing that was bestowed upon my line of vision was Roxas' furry little tail wagging butt.

"Lookie lookie!"

I groaned in response. What was going on? Where was I? When the heck did Roxas grow a fifth appendage? Well, I guess it was a sixth appendage if you count Roxas Jr. . Roxas was always bragging about his size. Said it compensated for his shortness.

"You have whiskers," I astutely noted, my voice coated in an inch thick film of phlegm.

"Dude, who cares about the whiskers? I've got a tail!"

My head popped up. My ship, my precious ship, was in total disarray. I had seen houses hit by number seven earth quakes on the Richter scale in better condition. Roxas could quite possibly be the worst driver I had ever bared witness to, or ever will bare witness too, again. His suckage is incomparable, as was his confidence.

"Annabelle?" I croaked out, trying to stand up but finding it rather difficult and had to resort to putting my body weight on all fours. I was so preoccupied by the fate of my techno girlfriend I scarcely took heed of Roxa's rather intriguing new facial features, like fur. My best friend was standing before me covered head to tail...quite literally...in an abundant amount of fur. I had heard rumors of strange things happening once one entered the atmosphere of the Pride Lands but never tested any of the theories out for myself.

Apparently they were true.

I remember pawing my way over to the newly demolished control panel and desperately trying to flip the switch to initiate Annabelle with my fingerless hands.

"My baby," I moaned in remorse. "My precious baby..."

"I didn't like her," Roxas pipped in, scratching behind his chocolate colored ear with a massively over grown paw. "She sounded kinda slutty to me."

"You didn't even get to know her!" I cried, clawing at the aluminum under my paws. I was too distracted to even care that I, indeed, had paws. Black paws, in fact. Roxas looked like a furry Hershey's bar. I resembled an ink spot. We were interesting colored mammals.

"Well, just tell yourself she's now in a better place," Roxas assured me with mock reverence.

"A better place?" I repeated. "Where the heck do computers go when they die, anyway?!"

"...Tron?" Roxas suggested weakly.

I frowned. "That's it. We're going to Tron."

Roxas rolled his cat like eyes as his tail twitched behind him irritatedly. "We're not going to Tron until I get me a girl. And as of now, I fail to see the previously required girl."

"You're kidding, right?"

"..Nah."

I glared and felt my claws protrude out of my newly acquired paws. I opened my mouth to snarl something hideous, or perhaps roar, but to my dismay Roxas had already turned around and lowered the exit ramp so he could bounce off into the Pride Lands. Disheveled and dismayed, I followed closely behind.

I watched as Roxas frolicked in front of me, his tiny butt bobbing up and down in the air like an atomical buoy. Not that I look at Roxas' butt on a regular basis, but hell, when it's shoved down your throat you can't help but notice the chipper air with which his dainty butt danced. It was always liked that. Even when he was human. Marluxia used to call him 'Dancing Butt Cheeks.' Roxas usually retorted with an understandably vicious, 'Flaming Faggot!' to which Marluxia would go off to his garden and cry. Again.

The man was like a walking ad for too much estrogen.

I'd suggest hormone therapy, but that option is pricey and HMO doesn't carry over into the afterlife. Besides, dead people don't exactly get sick, and I somehow doubt Xemnas would jump at the chance to pay for Marluxia's injected testosterone. Personally, I opt with starting a fundraiser where we all chip in to help Marluxia's intervention. It could involve throwing darts at Demyx.

"Look! Pride Rock!" Roxas squealed in pure jubilation. I nodded in recognition and slowly lagged behind. "That must be where all the human chicks hang out!"

I hung my head in desperation. "Yeah, um, speaking of that, have you noticed yet that we're not exactly what we used to be?"

"I'm sure we'll transform back after we find me some booty."

I winced. "Find me some booty? You've been hanging out with Xigbar again, haven't you?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because only he would be as primitive to refer to a female by the worth of her hindquarters."

Roxas chuckled at that, and continued to frolic on until he reached the base of Pride Rock.

Two point five seconds.

That's how long it took us to realize there were no human girls on this planet.

One point seven seconds.

That's how long it took us to turn around and run back to our ship wailing and screaming for our mommies.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I woke up to find a string of saliva oozing out of my mouth and onto the control panel for the Darkness. Oh, Saix was gonna love this. My spit all over his joy stick.

Somehow, that sounded terribly wrong.

Sexual innuendo aside, I found myself pretty zonked out. I mean, not that I was anything but impeccably hot given the vast amounts of drool gathering at the edges of my face, but even I admit people tend to be a lot more asthetically pleasing when they negate the use of bodily fluids for superficial reasons.

Speaking of physical attractions, and the wonder that is commonly known as my face, I was reminded of why I was sitting here practically making love to Saix's dash board in the first place. Girls. I needed girls.

I rubbed my eyes and turned on the holographic map that Xemnas had installed in all of our gummi ships while we were asleep. I distinctly remember him announcing this new modification with the tag line, "Wouldn't want any of little chick-ities getting lost on me, now would I? Good ol' Xemnas won't always be there to protect you, ya know."

He then went back to watching one of his favored Lifetime movies.

I work for the most mentally unstable man in the galaxy. It's official.

If you took a census in Castle Oblivion you would come back with twelve positive results all affirming that Xemnas was indeed a looney. Well, maybe eleven. I'm sure Vexen would have said something along the lines of: role model.

Regardless, while I was preoccupying myself with scanning my choices of next planet to be graced with my presence, I started to hear some static coming over the intercom at a very annoying decibel level. I risked a glance out the front of my borrow ship and felt my masculinity seeping out of my pores.

The Heart Throb was now in full view, in all of its pink flamboyant glory.

I silently bid farewell to my testicles, as I would probably cease to have them after this encounter was done.

The intercom fizzled to life again, and I was left gawking, mouth agape, at the monstrosity in front of me.

"I _told_ you this wasn't over," came the undeniable squeaky voice of the galaxy's most notorious fruitcake.

"Demyx," I affirmed, cradling my head in my hands.

"Yes, it is I. You may now proceed to kiss goodbye the life you now have, as I plan on shortly terminating your very existence."

I paused. "Wow, that was pretty extravagant. Did you get Saix to help you put together a little speech for me? Aww, you shouldn't have! I am _so_ flattered!"

I heard a snarl. "Ooooh, you take the fun out of everything!" Demyx whined.

"Ahh, there's the comrade I know."

"Screw you!" was the intelligent reply.

I laughed. "Is this what you came here to do? Hurtle insults at me through weightless amounts of space?"

"No, that would involve you standing on one end of Xigbar's head and me on the other."

Silence.

"Demyx, that's not funny."

"What? Yes it is! Don't you get it? There's nothing in Xigbar's head except weightless space! It was and insult—"

"Demyx, please shut up. You're wasting my planet's oxygen."

"Ha ha," the intercom dead panned. "Very funny. Even _I_ know there's no oxygen in space!" Heart

"...brilliant."

"I know I am, but thank you anyway."

"Sarcasm, you moron."

"Actually, no, I was quite serious."

"Not you idiot, me."

"Wait...what?"

"Never mind," I exhaled, feeling the oncoming of a severe migraine in the making.

"I'm confused."

"Now there's the longest book ever written: Demyx, Confused. A series of essays penned by the galaxy's most oblivious sitar player. Next only in length to Encyclopedia Britannica."

"There's a book about Encyclopedia Britannica?" Demyx gasped. "Cool, I didn't know that! How does it end?"

I felt like slamming my head against the dashboard until my brains were splattered all over the windshield in a pattern that was similar to that of modern art. They could put the gummi ship in the Traverse Town Museum and call my masterpiece: The Result Of Conversation With Unevolved Homosapians. I'm sure it would make a mint.

"...I believe you were here to have a pissing contest about your ship?"

"Oh yeah!" Demyx exclaimed. "I forgot. By the way, I'm mad at you."

"Mhmm. You sound it. So how was Twilight Town Idol last night?"

"Oh my gosh!" Demyx squealed, unable to control himself with the prospect of gossiping about his favorite reality show. "They had this one contestant from Hallow Bastion who was just, like, sooo amazing and—_hey_! Stop trying to change the subject! I'm really upset with you right now!"

"And I assure you my dear Demyx, I fear every moment of it."

There was another momentary pause, a phenomenon that is quite common when engaging in a battle of the wits with Demyx as he rakes his minds for plausible repertoire. Sometimes you can even heat up a TV dinner in between the predictable intervals.

"Well...well you should, dog, 'cuz Demyx be in the house and he is just da bomb!"

I squinted in disbelief. "Demyx," I began. "You're not black."

"So?"

I sighed. "You can't use Ebonics unless you're black."

"Say's who? Luxord does it all the time when he's clubbing!"

"That's because he's Luxord and he can actually pull it off," I grumbled.

"So can I!" Demyx squealed.

"No, Demyx, you can't."

Another pause. I picked at my nails to pass the time.

"Well I'm still mad at you and I am so totally going to kick your rear end right now it's not even funny!"

I propped my feet up on the control panel.

"I'm not laughing," I assured him. Ah, accursed hang nail. Should have taken care of that last week. I doubt any of my potential girlfriends go around carrying a decent nail clipper in their pocket. "Say, by the way Demmy, do you have a nail clipper?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I carry one around in my glove compartment."

Will the wonders ever cease?

"Awesome, so how's about you lend it to me when we get to our next stop?"

"I also have some cuticle oil too, if you're interested. Marluxia keeps borrowing it though, so it's half gone, but there's still a decent amount left." Pause. "Wait, you're trying to distract me again!"

"The thought never crossed my mind," I yawned, stretching out. I rubbed my eyes and continued. "So, nail clipper at the next planet?"

"Sure thing. Olympus Coliseum is the closest, why don't we stop there?"

"Sounds good to me," I agreed, not really wanting to have a personal confrontation with the guy but desperately needing a nail clipper. Hang nails annoy me.

"Okay. I'll lead the way. You can follow."

"I don't think so, man. I lead the way."

"But why?" Demyx demanded, trying to exude a stern exterior but sounding more like a whining child who didn't receive the lolly pop he so desperately wanted.

"Pifft. Isn't it obvious? Because I'm hotter."

"What? Since when did that give you the upper hand in flying?"

"Oh please, I know you want me."

There was an audible in take of breath.

"Calm down Demyx, I was just kid—"

"Is it that obvious?!"

Holy. Hell.

"I'm going to go away now," I blurted, snapping back to attention and lunging for the joy stick. "Follow if you want but please don't touch me."

"Always dream of it." Pause. "I mean, I mean I _wouldn't_ dream of it! Wouldn't!"

Sweet Mary.

I stepped on the gas pedal and sped as fast as the Darkness would allow to Olympus.

Larxene was going to have a field day with this.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Nail clipper, now."

"Hold on, hold on, Mr. Antsy Pants. Give me a sec to find the stupid thing."

I was nervously pacing back and forth outside of an enormously dominating Greek coliseum. It looked impressive and...big. But I was never one to admire architecture. That was more Zexion's style. As long as the roof doesn't cave in on me, I'm good.

"Hmm, now where did I put that silly thing?"

"Glove compartment," I dead panned.

"Oh yeah! Ha, I'm so forgetful sometimes!" Demyx shuffled around his ship for a minute. "Say, aren't I mad at you?"

"I don't believe so," I said in all seriousness. I swear, if the whole being dead thing and dominating the world doesn't work out, I could always make a career on Broadway.

Oh, gosh. Larxene would just love that.

I'd make a wonderful addition to Chorus Line. 'Hi, my name is Axel, and I used to burn things for a living and eat small children. In my free time, I planned world domination. My weapons of choice are two chakrams and pyrotechnics. But then one day, that life lost all its luster and I decided to turn to tap dancing. I now enjoy listening to opera and practicing classical piano. I find it soothes the soul.'

And can we say...no?

"Hm. Funny. I could have sworn I was mad at you for some reason,"

"You probably just saw some adrenaline fused show on television. The subliminal advertising of the media never ceases to amuse me."

"...but Gilmore Girls doesn't run on adrenaline."

"Please tell me that wasn't what you were watching before you came to hunt me down."

"No, actually, I was watching my Tivo-ed version of All My Children."

"Aw, hell."

As I prayed desperately to the deity that was in charge of masculinity (and therefore getting hooked up) I could hear some minor commotion from inside the cock pit. I know there is no such thing as a divine being in charge of the romantic world, but praying to God Almighty about the amount of feminine hormones floating around in Demyx's system just seemed...wrong. So I made up a Holy One and prayed to it. I'm pretty sure that's on God's big 'don't do' list but seeing as though I am already dead I doubt it will effect matters any.

"Ah-ha! I have found it!"

I breathed a sigh of relief. I really just wanted to clip my nail and get out of here. Or, rather, for Demyx to get out of here. He was annoying me more than usual today. Besides that, I really had to go pee.

"Um, Demmy, can we hurry it up here?"

Demyx then made his grand exit from the Heart Throb, complete with a little soft shoe and a click of the heels. He then pranced over to me, arm extended and holding the much sought after nail clipper.

"Did someone ask for a nail clipper?" he petitioned, beaming with kindergarten joy.

"Yes. Me. Thank you."

I went to reach for it but it was quickly snatched away from my grasp.

"Nu-uh-uh-uh. It's not that easy Axel!"

I clenched my teeth. Hard. So much so that I feared they may break. "Demyx, I really need to go pee. Can this wait?"

"First," the water nymph declared dramatically, waltzing backwards and out of my reach. "You have to sing a little something for me."

"Bloody hell..."

"Now, I prefer show tunes but I don't require them."

My hands were starting to turn red. The hairs on my arm were standing on end and my left eye was unintentionally twitching. And we all know what this means.

"Demyx, would you like to know where I think you should stick your show tunes?"

The mock inquisition was lost on him.

"Now, let's be corroborative, shall we?" Demyx suggested, smirking like I had just drank the cat piss he had placed in my cereal. "I don't think anyone wants an anatomy lesson today. All I'm asking is for you to—"

I always prided myself with my quick reflexes and subtle quirks with violence. Not to brag, but I was once able to burn a man alive while he slept. Really? No. But it sounded good. However, I was able to get a death grip around Demyx's tiny albino neck and squeeze my dangerously warm hand harder and harder until he finally surrendered the highly anticipated, albeit necessary, nail clipper.

Ha. I rule.

"Thankie," I replied in chipper tones, my previous irritated exterior melting away upon the receiving of a clipper. I hurriedly did away with my hang nail—the confounded thing that it was—and turned my attention to a now sprawled out Demyx.

"Pain..." he squeaked.

"You were being one in my ass," I elaborated, smugly staring him down. "I don't do the singing thing."

"Well you should," Demyx retorted, wiping the sand off his cloak. "It's fun."

"Drinking five bottles of beer under ninety seconds is fun," I decided. "Singing is just wrong."

"Dude, when did you drink five bottles of beer in under—"

"Luxord."

"Ohhh."

I let out a sigh and took in my bleak surroundings. This place was obviously in need of some foliage or something. Sand and marble stone don't count as an intentional décor. It was bleak. It was hot. And I needed to go pee. I'm sure Zexion would have a field day making love to his geometric equations as he came up with some elaborate plan on how to further construct this so called coliseum. He'd go at it with his acute angles and protractor and somewhere in between his make out fest with the diameter of the semi theater and the projection of the columns he'd engage in a vigorous tongue wrestling match with his TI-83 calculator and breed a herd of socially awkward children.

Not that Zexion's fornication efforts are any of my concern. But I would like to be informed ahead of time if we are to share Castle Oblivion with a nation of geek freaks as they all go around chanting to their own personal sun god (or whatever it is those strange new age vegans worship) and snitch at us about eating anything that previously had a face.

I would not be able to be held liable for what I would have to do to them.

Rest assured it would involve torture, flames, stretching racks, and cannibalism just to piss their father off.

Then again, Zexion never had a soft spot for humans. It was the chickens he was so damn concerned about.

Anyway. Zexion's offspring aside, I needed to locate a bathroom. Fast.

I began to march towards the lavish stair way that led into the much fabled about fighting arena. On occasions Lexeaus comes here to level up, or strengthen those jaw muscles he's always flexing. Perhaps he could try, like, talking. I hear that does wonders for your bucinator muscles.

"Hey—yyy, Axel buddy where ya goin'?"

"I desperately need to relieve myself," I answered. "You can leave now if you want."

I heard pitter patters behind me.

"I'm sorry, but I just can't help but think I have some unfinished business with you."

"What are you talking about?" I inquired in mock seriousness, donning my acting façade once again.

"It's just this feeling I have in my gut, is all."

"Demyx," I began very slowly, stretching out each syllable for maximum dramatic effect. "You're a Nobody. You can't feel."

This rendered him silent for a glorious minute, and I seized the opportunity to charge full speed ahead to the arena. I was halfway down its marble hall way when I was stopped abruptly by a fat, hairy, smelly cross between a goat and a human. He had a beer belly twice the size of what must be considered healthy and a stringy beard with bits of food in it. He basically was the personification of those elusive monsters that I always feared were lurking around under my bed at night. With horns. I never imagined them with horns.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Just were do you think you're going?!"

I skidded to a stop and stared down at my hairy enemy. At a loss of what to say, considering the ghastly proportions of this mammal in front of me (he was larger wide than he was tall) I blankly turned to Demyx and shouted, "See what cross breeding does!?"

My comrade chose to say nothing. My humor was deftly lost upon him. I'm going so underappreciated these days.

"Excuse me for asking, but just who the heck do you think you are? If you're not here for the competition then you might as well scram."

I shrugged modestly. "Dude, relax. I just need to take a piss."

"With what? Your boyfriend?" the goat buffed, nodding in the general direction of my frazzled comrade.

Oh. My. Gosh.

I stared. "You think...that we're...I'm not...aw crap..." I promptly continued staring.

"I don't mean to be judgmental, but you're the one wearing the fluffy pink bathrobe," the goat man continued, jabbing a chubby finger at my current wardrobe.

I had completely forgotten about my choice of dress.

What was even more frightening was Demyx failed to notice.

"It's armor," I dead panned.

"Armor?" the goat yelped. "I ain't never seen any armor that look like dat!"

"It's all the rage down in Twilight Town," I proceeded to lie. "Then again, I wouldn't expect a back water place like this to be aware of such things."

When put in a position where I am made to feel inferior, my fail proof tactic is always the same: simply make the other person feel more inferior. I am a bonified genius.

"Ha!" came the gritty laugh of response. "Wadda load of turd."

Demyx made a disdainful face and immediately began searching the premises for feces.

Lord help the woman who decides to spawn his kids.

"Look," I began, taking on a new friendly tone even though I had just previously finished making fun of the goat man all at the same time, "I just need a bathroom. Bad."

"What's wrong with the one on your ship?" Demyx queried.

"It's Saix's bathroom," I articulated, over pronunciating the name of the elvin model from elitist hell. "I am not using the ornate poop chute of gold to take a piss in."

"Is it really made of gold?" Demyx wondered out loud.

I ignored the comment.

"You can only use the bowls if you're participating in the competition," the goat explained in a huff.

"Bowls?" I repeated, utterly confused.

"Wut?" the animal demanded brashly. "You don't actually think we have _plumbing_ on this planet, do you?"

I, too, began to join Demyx in his visual scanning for misplaced turds.

"Is the competition open to all?" Demyx unexpectedly inquired.

"Oh please Demyx. Like you would even stand a chance—"

Wait. If he's involved in the competition, he can't fallow me.

Oh, Rapture.

"Yeah, if you think you got the stuff for it," the mammal cross breed muttered.

Demyx immediately began to don a highly superior façade.

"Excuse me, my dear Axel," he began in a voice of mock wealth. "I believe I will be needing to borrow your bathrobe."

"Wait, why?" I demanded, suddenly becoming defensive of my pink fluffy bathrobe. Though only Heaven knows why.

"Well...you said it was armor, right?" Demyx questioned, his persona returning to that of its usual intelligence. "I think I need it more than you do at this point."

"You _want_ the bathrobe?" I repeated in incredulity, just incase I heard wrong.

"Well, yeah," Demyx replied, like I should have known this since I was born. "Anything to make me fight better."

"You could start by not running away," I muttered, remembering all too fondly all those countless missions I was sent on with our dearly beloved in which he scampered and wailed in the face of confrontation.

"Shhh!" he hissed. Ah, my gift of the blab always gets me into trouble. Such are things that make me smile. Call me sadistic.

"I don't have all day," the goat interrupted, huffing and puffing like a temperamental child.

"Here," I grumbled, "take the stupid thing."

I stripped. He stripped. I will not explain this exchange. My eyes burn with the memory that will forever be etched into my skull of a stark naked Demyx trying to saunter his way into a pink fluffy bathrobe under the gross misconception that it was indeed armor.

I claimed ownership of his black trench coat. It fit far from perfectly, but anything was an improvement from being, ya know, covered in friggin' _pink_.

"Wish me luck!" Demyx chirped as he skipped after the midget man.

"Uh-huh," I drawled, following him with my eyes to make certain he actually fell for the bait.

"Wait," the water nymph paused as he was halfway down the hall. "Aren't I mad at you?"

I shrugged.

"I _am_ mad at you, aren't I? That's right!" he said, hitting his head so hard his brain must have rattled (assuming he possessed such an organ.) "You stole my...my...hair dryer last week!"

I quirked an eyebrow.

Eh, let the kid think what he wants. As long as he's not chasing me with that beloved flying contraption from candy land, I'm good.

The goat creature hurriedly ushered an emotionally disturbed Demyx into the arena. I made my escape and continued my epic quest for a bathroom that was more than a bowl.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Now, I want to clear something up. I don't usually go roaming around in dark, dank corners of the worlds (I leave that to our emo-tastic friend, Zexion, in all of his punky hair glory) but a pestering bladder will make a man do many things (take a whiz in a bowl is _not_ one of these things, however. Geez, I have more self respect than that. Even my pee is deserving of more dignity.)

North a ways from where I parked The Darkness I encountered a valley of sorts which led down down down into the cave like realm of The Underworld. I've heard of this place. Xigbar was all like 'ooh look at me, I vacation in this place.' I glared accordingly and I seem to remember Larxene swooning. I cringe at the thought of a honeymoon.

I distinctly remember similar bathroom ventures while gallivanting with said companion Roxas in our search for companionship. I never had a problem piddeling in a lake or stream, but the kid always objected saying he didn't want to hurt the fishies.

"Besides Axel," he would retort. "Do you have any idea how much pollution effects our subconscious economic social system?"

I'm pretty sure Roxas was busy playing with his alphabet soup when he came up with those unfamiliar words.

I'd sigh out and let go regardless. Marine life be damned.

So there I was, rushing around the Underworld looking for a bathroom. How many men can say that?

Ergh. Water. So much water down here. It was really making me desperate. Like, exceedingly so. So much so that I scarcely noticed the scantily clad pristine goddess hovering over the stone edge of the precipice wringing out her shimmering hair with her porcelain hands and basically screaming, 'please take me, I'm yours.'

Wait. Hell-llo.

She turned her rigid frame in my general direction. While angular and defined, she struck some kind of chord in me that has not been struck in a long time. I like a girl who likes puppy dogs and lolly pops as much as the next guy, but when one comes along with a little bit of pizzaz to her enigma it's like the parting of the heavens.

"You look a little frazzled there, kid," she noted in a delightfully noncondescending tone, yet able to use the endearment regardless. "You need some help finding your blankie?"

I opened my mouth to say something witty and clever. Something precise and breath taking. Something comical and deep. Something astounding and enjoyable.

"I really, really have to piss like a race horse."

I just shot myself in the foot. Nah, scratch that, I just amputated the damn appendage. I'll be hobbling around on metaphoric crutches the rest of my life.

"You don't say," she intoned, voice hinting with genuine curiosity yet laden in a covering of sarcasm.

Oh, euphoria be praised. Nirvana has been found. This woman was an anomaly.

I shrugged modestly.

"Uh, yeah..."

"So you just down here for a social visit or do you actually have some reason for standing there?"

I swallowed and cleared my throat, which was surprisingly dry.

"I'm, uh, looking for a bathroom."

Lame. Lame. Lame.

"You came all the way for that?" she questioned, arching an already arched eyebrow.

"Nature calls?" I suggested meekly, and adjective I rarely utilize when self describing my persona.

"Well, yeah, I guess it does."

"Ya know what?" I blurted. "How about you stay _right_ _there _and I'll be back in a second?"

"What?" she mused mildly. "You gonna go take a tinkle behind a rock?"

Did a Disney female just use the word 'tinkle?'

"Da..." Me. Flabbergasted yet again. So much for first impressions.

"You don't get out much, do you?"

I bustled in response.

"I just came from Atlantica," I coughed up. "I'm still traumatized."

"So I see," the female deity smirked, placing an anorexic, yet charmingly alluring, hand on her rather boney hip. "Well, there's a giant void that-a-way, if you wanna go make a field trip outta it."

I followed the direction of her manicured finger down the uncanny path of a nondescript passageway.

"Marvelous," I responded. "Thank you. Now don't move, I want to flirt with you."

"Now?" she inquired, laughing at my awkward potty position I had subconsciously picked up while hobbling around in the Underworld.

"No, not now. After I pee. So don't go anywhere, kay?"

"You may very well be the most disturbed individual I have ever met," she noted. "I'm captivated."

"Good!" I spit out, full of good intentions but only minutes away from self leakage. "Good, good, that's good!" I continued to dance. "That way?" I asked again. She nodded and I was off.

I tore down the cave way until I came to a sharp, jutting out precipice that stood before a void of green swirling, ethereal mist that reeked horribly like human flesh. Scrunching up my nose, I looked down into oblivion and saw that the cavern housed its very own collection of thriving ghosts and spirits that were swimming in the elusive substance like a pool in a theme park. Surely she didn't mean for me to pee in this...

I was out of options. It was either that or soil Demyx's coat.

I began to unzip.

"Sorry guys," I called down. "Don't worry, karma will come back and bite me in the ass."

Just as I began to relieve myself I heard an abrupt shout from behind me.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" I turned around and came face to a face with a rather oxygen deprived looking individual. His skin was of the blue variety and his eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. He was tall, he was lean, and he looked like hell. Literally. I did note that he had a flaming blue mane made of my personal infatuation: fire. While I envied his locks, he could keep the rest of his face, for it was not appeasing.

I opened my mouth to explain but there's really nothing one can say after almost taking a deliberate piss on the damned.

"There's really no need to do the five fingered knuckle shuffle over my abundant pool of the undead—marvelous hair by the way, I just _love_ the color—I doubt my precious spirits like being dumped upon by your bodily exterminates. So whatdya say we find somewhere else for you to piddle and leave the ghosts to their...howling and being miserable and all that good stuff, hm?"

I blinked. That was an awfully lot to digest in an awfully short time period. I wondered if this man took amphetamines.

"Are you on drugs?" I asked, still on display due to my previous intentions.

"Asks the man who is exposing himself to his very own grandmother," the blue one muttered, rubbing his temple.

My eyes widened. "Grandma? She's down there?!"

"Oh but _of course_!" the man hollered, coming over and looming beside me. "You didn't think she floated up to heaven after a lifetime of walking the streets, now did you son?"

I grimaced. "Dad didn't like to talk about that much."

"Oh gee, wonder why," my new acquaintance muttered. "Still, she probably made more money than either of us ever will."

I stared lack jawed at this man's brutal honesty. I couldn't tell if I admired it or found it repulsive. Either way, it deserved a response.

"Um, name?" I asked, frantically trying to think of something else to do with my pee.

"Hades," he supplied, sticking out his hand. "Hades, God of the Underworld, nice to meet ya kid how ya doin'?" He didn't wait for me to answer. "Now, as I see it, we have two options. Either I let you piss off—quite literally—the dead with your penial acrobats or I let you take a load off your shoulders somewhere else."

"Either way works for me," I concluded. "Just make it fast, I was in the middle of something."

"Oh, and you weren't just now?"

I didn't want to laugh at my own expense. Still, the man was quite funny in a sick and twisted sort of way. Like a personified dirty joke. You know you're not supposed to laugh, but you just can't help it.

"That's beside the point," I dismissed. "Now, which way to the bathroom?"

"There's a nice little cranny right over there," Hades indicated by pointing a horrendously boney finger. "Feel free to have your way with it, just make sure to clean it up when you're done."

I very nearly protested but seeing as though he was, well, a god, and I had very nearly just taken a leak on his property, it was probably best I not argue. I walked over to the corner and knew better than to ask for toilet paper.

Two minutes later, I was done and heading back to where the previous incarnation of beauty itself was standing. I was almost out of Hades' line of vision when I heard him call after me, "Hey kid, where ya goin'? Did I tell you you could leave?"

I paused. "Um, did I ask?"

It was then that Hades mouth, very literally, dropped to the floor. Cartoons never cease to amuse me.

His hair then flickered red for an instant, like a warning siren proclaiming the apocalypse was nigh, but he very quickly regained his composure and resumed his normal blue hue.

"Alrighty wise guy, you're a smart one. Lemme word it to you in a way you may understand: I kill people. End of story. So if you don't like what I have to say then I suggest you learn to make real nice with your Grandma because that's where you'll be spending all of eternity."

I quirked an eyebrow and flirted with the notion of informing him I was already dead. I decided not to, seeing as though it was none of his business, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching him squirm for answers, and continued to saunter my way back over to my previous female conquest.

"You _don't_ want to make me mad," I heard the undead god warn from behind me.

"Or you'll what?" I drawled out in lazy torpor.

"I'll _burn_ you," he threatened menacingly.

I rolled my eyes. While forming fire comes with the supernatural package one receives upon death, its opposite is also included in the gift basket too.

It was then that I promptly snapped my fingers and took out Hades' hair.

"Whoa, wait, is my hair out?" Hades muttered, feeling the top of his now bald head.

"Threaten me when you can make it worth my while."

"Excuse me, my little drop of oh so precious sunshine, just what exactly do you think you are doing here in the first place?"

"I'm getting myself a girl," I bragged, adrenaline running high due to the positive feed back I had received from the female at the gates of hell.

"Oh," Hades muttered. "Ohhhhh, okay." He looked suspiciously devious about something. "Well, have fun kid. Just put it back when you're done." He then stalked off down some other cavern and left me to my own devices.

Well now that was certainly...abrupt.

Oh well. No time to ponder the unlikely actions of certain undead gods of the Underworld. I had to go flirt my way to Nirvana. Hallelujah, redemption is near.

"Um, hello?" I called out when I made it back to the previous murky lake that sprawled out just inside the entrance. I neglected to ask for this woman's name, and was now thoroughly regretting it. "Anybody here?"

"Keep your dress on tooth pick, I'm right behind you."

I whirled around to confront the supplier of that strangely enticing pick up line. Out of the mouth of anyone else and I probably would have charred their face.

"A-ha," I chirped, trying to hold back my enthusiasm for fear of coming on too giddy—and pretty much sounding like Roxas. "There you are."

"You didn't expect me to go off and get myself lost, now did you?" she queried, daring me for an answer. "I don't do the whole damsel in distress thing. I'm a big girl, I tie my own sandals and all."

I could not repress the smirk that was tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"I am very glad to hear it," I intoned. "Shoe tying has always been up there on my list of traits I find appealing in a significant other."

"What else is up there?" she inquired, looking genuinely interested.

Without thinking, for I was totally swept right off my feet by this lady and therefore was not reasoning with any logic whatsoever, I calmly blurted, "Well, I'd prefer them to be dead."

Silence.

The woman in front of me cocked her head to one side. "I won't write off kinky entirely—scarves and blindfolds are all fun accessories—but I draw the line at necrophilia."

It was at this moment that I honestly laughed.

Now, I don't think you understand how rare that feat is. Very rarely do I laugh. I usually settle on haughtily smirking, or exhaling a one syllable 'heh,' or sniggering something awful. I'm more likely to snort in sadistic appreciation than throw back my head and chuckle. But this woman made me forget all my previous tendencies and just let go. It was nice.

After I was done convulsing my sides, I promptly realized I was now stuck with the dilemma of having to explain to her what the previous comment meant. And if the beginning was any indication of how the rest of the relationship would play out, it looked like I may actually have a chance with this one and I really, really didn't want to screw it up.

I blinked. "I don't do the whole...necrophilia thing," I assured her, to put her mind at ease. "It just so happens that I'm..." I paused. How do you go about telling someone this piece of information anyway? It's not like I've had any practice. And I really didn't want to freak her out. But you can't hide the fact that you're not living forever. I mean, sooner or later she's gonna wonder her boyfriend never bleeds. Or has a pulse. Or a heart beat. Or a normal body temperature (except for when I'm, ya know, enraged.)

"I'm dead," I blurted.

The lady looked at me. "You look pretty good for a dead person," she remarked keenly, cupping her angular chin with her hand.

"I defy decomposition," I said saucily, like I really had anything to do with the fact my organs weren't rotting or my skin wasn't falling off. That was Xemnas' doing and we all knew it. How is another story. Personally, I think he just shoots us all up with a truck load of Botox and prays to his god of lunacy that our flesh will hold our organs in. Otherwise I'm completely in the dark concerning the matter.

"That I can see."

I was surprised this woman had not run for the hills yet. Very rarely does one get to state they are dead and continue with the normal conversation.

"You're, um, cool with that?"

"I've seen worse," she assured, flicking back her pony tail (which was made up of enough hair to look like a separate animal.) "Believe me, as long as you're human, we can work it out."

Wow.

I guess when you live in a world where there are numerous gods prancing around in broad daylight, undead souls swimming in the caverns, and cross bred mammals trying to assert their authority, what's one more dead guy gonna do?

"Do you have a name?" I questioned, stepping a little closer. It was rather awkward to be standing in the middle of the Underworld trying to strike up a conversation. Perhaps she'd be savvy to moving things upstairs where there was actually, like, light.

She then decided to sit down at the edge of the rock walkway and let her feet dangle aimlessly in the murky water. Then again, maybe she was perfectly content staying right here. Ah well, beggars can't be choosers.

"Megara," she offered, looking up at me with a twinkle in her eye. "But my friends call me Meg." She paused. "At least they would if I had any friends."

My first reaction was: emo. But then I took into account the way she said it and I realized she simply brushed it off like it was no big thing. I was impressed she didn't launch into a three hour dissertation as to why she was so lonely and how hard life is and oh why can't I kill her right now so she'll be spared the pain of living another day?

I don't like girls who are, well, overly emotional. Call it Larxene syndrome, or call it me not wanting to deal with what I can't have (read:emotions) but I really don't think I'd be compatible with someone who gushed their heart on their sleeve. Bluntness is fun. But melodrama is out of the question.

"I'm Axel," I coughed out, sitting down next to her. I was a little nervous about putting my feet in the water. It looked like someone had sneezed in a bowl of pea soup; filmy greenness speckled with unidentifiable chunks of substance. "I'll be your friend."

"Imagine that," she leered out.

I paused momentarily and wondered for a second what Roxas would think of her. Of course, I immediately scolded myself for being so retrospective but I couldn't help it, he was part of me. He always was. He was like my third appendage, an extension of myself. And I still crave his opinion even after he is no longer capable of giving it.

"_She's oozing attitude," he'd say._

_I'd look at him. "You don't think I can handle someone with attitude?"_

_Roxas would shake his head. "No stupid, you _need_ someone with attitude. Otherwise how would they put up with the likes of you?"_

My subconscious makes good points.

"So Meg," I began cordially. "How does a girl like you end up in a place like this?"

"You mean I can't hang out in the Underworld because I like the décor?" she responded, a smirk dancing across her artistic face.

I quirked my brow. "Well, it would be a first."

"Dead people entice me, what can I say?"

"Well..." I began. "I'd say that's a good thing, seeing as though I'm deceased and all."

"So you're saying this might work out?" she inquired, her voice heavy with the intent of flirtation.

I paused. This was the first time I had ever successfully wooed a girl. I wish Larxene was here to see this.

"I wasn't aware you were a working girl," I replied, implying that she was taken.

"Lonely as ever," she informed me. "Been that way for awhile."

Inside my head was ringing like an air siren: SINGLE SINGLE SINGLE. Of course, I had to maintain a decent façade, otherwise pouncing on her may not go over so well. Besides, I had this sinking feeling that she could probably kick my butt, or a good portion of it. Strangely, I found that insanely attractive. It's nice to know if I ever displease my significant other she'll turn around and slap me one in the face instead of eating my unintentional garbage. Of course, I don't want it to the point where she beats within an inch of my second life because I forgot to take out the trash and have it look like an S&M slugfest, but someone with enough audacity to give me a run for my money was exceedingly enticing.

"So what are you really doing down here?" she asked, locking eyes with me. "You couldn't have possibly ventured all the way down here to take a leak."

I paused. Honesty had worked before, so I figured I'd try it again.

"I'm actually trying to prove my masculinity."

"...so you come to the Underworld for bragging rights?"

"Actually, no," I started. "I came here looking for a girlfriend."

Meg didn't seem taken aback at all by this proposal. A girl who doesn't thrive off shock value is a good find.

"Well, there's a whole pit of dead girls over yonder," she directed, motioning in the direction from which I came.

"I kinda like the girl I've got right here," I replied, staring at her straight on. She didn't shift under my gaze. In fact, she matched it. So much so that _I_ almost felt like shifting.

"And why would that be?" she questioned. "Do you usually have a thing for sarcastic females who lurk around in the dark all the time?"

"I don't find you that sarcastic," I admitted, narrowing my eyes as they continued to focus on her face. "I think you're just guarding yourself." She looked at me dead on. I think I hit the nail on the head. "My friend does the same exact thing," I continued. "I've seen it before."

"And does your friend have...any friends?"

I paused.

"Well, actually, no, we all pretty much hate her," I stated bluntly. "But she doesn't sit down with us and have nice conversations. She just screams and occasionally kills things."

Meg regarded me strangely. "Do you come from a dysfunctional family?"

"Hell yes!" I shouted with emphasis.

"Oh, you're becoming more attractive by the minute."

I couldn't tell if the last line was sarcasm or truth, but I like to pretend it was a little of both.

I leaned back on my palms, feeling the gravel dig into my flesh.

"So I answered your question," I remarked, lollying my head back. "Now you hafta answer mine."

"Says who?" Meg inquired, intentionally being difficult.

"The voices in my head," I dead panned, unwilling to not play into her complicated repertoire. Surprisingly, she actually laughed at this. And what man doesn't feel eighteen times taller when he makes a girl laugh? I mean, seriously. You want to impress a guy? Just laugh at one of his jokes. It does wonders for the male ego.

"A girl has to keep her secrets," she informed me. "Otherwise what's to keep you coming back for more?"

I was very tempted to make a rude remark in response, but refrained seeing as though this was Meg I was talking to, not Larxene, and manners are actually required. (Not that making rude remarks to females is the smartest thing to do, but when you live in a castle full of guys, sometimes you forget your chivalry. Larxene certainly never held us accountable.)

"Intriguing," I lied. Head games annoy me. Probably from hanging around Roxas and Larxene so long (because Lord knows they just vomit up any whimsy that crosses their mind.) But I decided against being picky.

"_Aw, she's somewhat annoying, just like you!"_

"_Roxas, shut up."_

"So what do you do for fun in a place like this?" I questioned, scratching the back of my neck at lack of things to do. I fidget when I'm nervous. Which is, like, never. But this whole impressing the ladies bit is a little tiresome on the mind.

"I usually watch the tournaments."

"Tournaments?" I repeated, my blood lust rising inside me. I guess my eyes must have bulged or something, because the next thing out of Meg's mouth was,

"Whoa, easy there cowboy, there's plenty to go around."

"Do people get to, um, kill things?"

"Is that a hobby of yours?" Meg imposed, her never ending smirk still evident on her lips.

"It's more of a past time," I stated without thinking. "But don't worry, the people I kill usually deserve to die anyways."

"Ah, how thoughtful of you to justify murder."

"Oh please, you never met someone _you_ wanted to kill?"

"I don't recall ever having the option," Meg entertained, seeming to fuel the conversation just for amusement. While this may seem eccentric for her, this was every day life for me.

"Well, lemme tell you, if you had the option of disemboweling a pedophile, you'd probably leap at the offer," I assured her. I was suddenly reminded of Larxene's torture chamber and I wanted nothing more than to spend some quality time with her ripping the finger nails off of a child molester one by one. We'd probably laugh and share martinis over it. Such memories I'd look back on fondly.

"So, uh, anyway, back to the tournament," I hinted. "Do I get anything if I win?"

Meg's face instantaneously clouded over.

"It's okay," I added quickly, thinking I said something wrong. "I'm willing to do it for charity."

"You really should see Hades if you're interested."

"Oh, good ol' Burning Brains?" I recalled. "I think I've already met him. Is he always that temperamental or was he just pissed off I was...well, pissing off?"

The spark that was previously infused within Megara seemed to have dimmed and gone out entirely. I felt like I had just rained all over her Sunday afternoon picnic.

"It's not like I'm losing interest it you," I reassured her, leaning into her shoulder gently and nudging her. "I just have this killing thing that needs to be sated sometimes. Kind of like drug addicts need their cocaine. Not that I'm a drug addict or anything, though I was admittedly drawn to the taste of liquid Tylenol as a child."

Meg seemed to resuscitate a little after I bumped her.

"You are quite an odd fellow," she remarked, eyes dimly glistening again.

"Yeah, well, at least I'm honest. How many guys can say that?"

"...true," she retorted.

I paused for a moment. "Say, why don't we feed into the stereotypical mold society has cast upon us and you watch me try to impress you with my sheer strength and power so I may possibly win you over?"

Meg paused. "What planet do they do that on?"

"I think it's called Earth," I responded.

"Well, if you feel so led to mimic their traditions, then I won't stop you from feeding your craving."

"It's a multi facet craving," I explained. "I impress you while sating my blood lust."

"How charming," she dead panned, though she still smirked, which I somewhat admired about her. Smiles are attractive. Why do you think everyone loved Roxas so damn much?

"_Well Axel, she hasn't run away yet. I think she's a keeper."_

There really were voices in my head. They were called Roxas.

I leaped to my feet (the promise of death making me giddy) and I extended my hand to help Meg up. She seemed to gawk at my extended offer.

"I'm being gentlemanly," I informed her. "Take it or leave it."

"You make it sound like a chore," she replied, refusing to seek my aide in standing. "Thanks, but I'm able to walk just fine on my own."

That was kinda hot.

"Glad to hear it," I replied, now walking side by side. She led the way and I fell gallantly into tow.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"So Axel, tell me, what do you find most attractive in a female?"

"Brains," I answered simply, doodling little smiley faces on the dashboard of OURS (before, of course, we crashed it and all.) Roxas and I had discovered we have an intense infatuation with the smell of sharpies and were now decorating my entire gummi ship with art of our own creation.

"Xigbar said beer flavored nipples," Roxas recalled, swirling around in the passenger's chair. One time he swiveled so much he actually threw up.

"Yeah, well Xigbar is a pig," I retorted, pushing down a little harder on the sharpie.

"Isn't Larxene, like, dating him or something?"

"Only God knows why."

"Only God knows why someone would date Larxene," Roxas wondered out loud, truly fascinated with this concept.

"Desperateness?" I suggested. "Masochism?"

"Maybe," Roxas agreed, drawing a big apple on the side of my dashboard.

"Roxas, what the hell is that?"

"It's an apple," he stated in all innocence. "I like apples."

"But that doesn't mean you have to draw it on my ship," I muttered.

"You said I could draw whatever I wanted," he replied, sticking his tongue out. "And I wanted apples."

"I want a naked super model in my bed," I retorted. "But I didn't draw that."

"Oh, that's a requirement too? Super model aesthetics?"

I grimaced. "For what? A girlfriend?" I questioned, drawing another smiley face and writing under it 'my best friend Roxas...who likes apples because he is stupid.'

"Yeah huh."

"Not really. I mean, it would be nice and all, but she's gonna get old and go grey one way or another."

"Hm," Roxas thought out loud, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Well, besides brains, what else do you want?"

"Loyalty," I continued without missing a beat. I had thought this out way before I ever met Roxas. I did live twenty one years of my life, ya know. I'm sure these requirements came into play at one point or another.

"And after that?"

"That she can kick my ass."

"Why do you find that so hot?" Roxas questioned. "You freak. You masochistic freak."

"Fetish," I corrected, without looking up. I was concentrating on perfecting another smiley face, since in reality it was all I knew how to draw.

"Well what about personality?" Roxas pried. "You need that too, right?"

"That's a given, if she doesn't have personality then the rest of the stuff doesn't matter."

"Huh." Roxas retorted, again, deep in thought. "Interesting."

"Well what about you?" I inquired. "Or are you too young to have hormones yet?"

"I heard that," Roxas grumbled, finishing off his apple and starting on a grape. I never understood that kid. "I have a thing for blondes," he admitted. "What about you? What color hair do you like?"

"Pifft. I don't care. As long as she has hair, I'm good."

"So you wouldn't date a chemo patient then?"

I stopped drawing. "Roxas, what the hell?"

"I'm serious!" he insisted, preteen voice cracking with effort. "Would you date someone with cancer?"

"Sure, why not?" I answered, continuing my spiral of smiley faces. "Why are you harassing me over this?"

"Over what?"

"Girls."

"Because you've been single for just about forever and I'm beginning to worry about you."

I sighed. "Thanks for your concern, but I think I can manage."

"Sure ya do," Roxas drawled out. He then spontaneously inhaled the scent of sharpie aroma. "Does this make us drug addicts? Getting high off writing utensils and all?"

"No, it just makes us insane."

"Well, we already knew that."

Roxas continued to doodle away at the specimens in the food pyramid before inexplicably blurting, "Ya know what I think?"

"Enlighten me."

"You'd make a great daddy."

"Roxas, incase you forgot, that requires a female counterpart."

"No it doesn't," Roxas argued, looking at me straight on. When I met his steady gaze with my own he calmly stated, in all seriousness, "Sperm banks."

"Holy hell Roxas, I am not selling my semen."

Roxas shrugged. "Well you're not willing to get a girl."

"Willing and capable are two different things entirely. Besides, I have all eternity to reproduce. What's the rush?"

Roxas' face lit up like a fire cracker. "Because I wanna name your babies!"

"You will have no part in the naming process whatsoever," I assured him.

"Aw, you're no fun," the boy muttered, sulking off to the ship's interior bathroom. Just before he closed the door behind him, I could have sworn I heard him grumble, "For what it's worth, I think you're gonna end up with a _blond_."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AN: There was no point in that last flashback whatsoever. That was Vixen getting her fluff fix. And really, what girl with an ounce of estrogen hasn't wondered what Axel wants in a girlfriend? See, I composed this to put our minds at ease. We can sleep peacefully knowing that Axel would be willing to date us, even if we had cancer, as long as we were able to kick his ass. Of course, as my luck would have it, my mother happened to be looming over my shoulder as I was typing that and she quietly noted, "Vixen, why do you have a fetish with people kicking your ass?"

"MOM!" I hollered. "That's Axel speaking, not me!"

"Well then why does it say I?"

"...because it's in first person."

So aside from my parental unit thinking I am a masochistic freak, as Roxas so delicately put it, all is well.

Oh, and for the record: no, I do not think Demyx is gay. I made him form those side comments for comical purposes. I do not plan on making him gay or having him pursue that venue whatsoever. It was just a line that needed to be said because it was, well, funny. And yes, I know I bash him, but that's only because I love him. And I will write a positive fiction about him one day to repent for my sins. But as for now, this story is about Axel, and I don't think making it emo for other minor characters would be fair to him, right? I mean, if I wanted to be serious, do you think I would make Zexion a vegan? My point exactly.

But I do truly think that man would make out with his TI-83 calculator.

Besides the point.

I guess I owe you an explanation as to where I've been. You probably guessed it. The hospital. That's usually where I go when I disappear for vast amounts of time. Not that I was in the hospital for three consecutive months (oh, gosh no) I just got to make an eighteen day pit stop and then come home and relapse. But I got some steroids, so I managed to pull out of my slump. And in a couple days they're gonna inject some Botox in my face to try and paralyze the nerve endings. (The pain is in my head, incase you couldn't tell.) But I think I'm going to stop talking about this now, seeing as though this is more Live Journal material as opposed to fanfic. I just wanted to account for where I have been, as I usually do, since I don't want anyone thinking I abandoned this story or have neglected to email them because I secretly hate them.

I have Losing-Friends-A-Phobia. Hence my lengthy explanations for just about everything I do.

Anyway.

I've gotten forty reviews. FORTY REVIEWS. And they were all HUGE. I honestly do not know how to thank you guys for taking the time to leave such considerate and lengthy responses. It makes my day, since writing is now my life AND my escape, and these are the things that get me through my rough spots. Thank you to everyone who has contacted me personally over the last couple months. You know who you are and you made me cry. But they were happy tears. Mario printed your emails and brought them to the hospital for me to read. Yeah. It was amazing of you guys. Thanks.

So I have to admit, I've had this chapter done for awhile. Let's not say how long, lest a couple dire readers may kill me. But what took me this long to post, obviously, has been the cookies. Mario got so tired of waiting he told me to hand out one giant community cookie. Now, if you all took the time to leave such personal reviews, then you deserve your own friggin' cookie. (I have issues with review replying, it hates me for some reason. I've tried it. It vomits on me accordingly.) So cookies are a chance for me to thank everyone personally. I also get to ponder any ideas you throw at me, which I have used thanks to you.

BTW: the line 'karma will come back and bite me in the ass' was taken from **CONSTANCE GREEN** in her fanfiction 'fall out.' It was the tag line for her summary. I fell in love with it. Sorry. Constance, if you hate me, I can always edit it out. (Oh, and if I ever use the word 'discordia,' that was inspired by her too.)

I have been dabbling in the one shot realm lately, and have coughed up two one shots while I was trying to hand out cookies. One's a Riku drabble (for all you insane Flaming Shadow fans out there—only Lord knows why you like the thing) called 'No Way In Hell I'm Gettin' Redemption.' And my other one, which involves a lot of Kairi poking, is an Anti Kairi X Leon pairing. Instead of putting them together, I decided to have them hate each other! Oh, it was so much fun! And it actually has a MORAL at the end! Gasp! That one is called 'Saccharine Intoxication.' Yup. Figured I'd throw that out there. I feel bad for leaving you for so long and only supplying you with this chapter. So I mentioned that so you can't hate me for ignoring the calling of fanfiction. Mhmm.

Oh, and I guess the cat is out of the bag, the Disney girl I planned on pairing Axel up with is MEGARA. (Fireworks go off.) Yes yes. I thought it would work quite nicely. Perhaps because they have similar colored hair? I dunno.

So. Anyways. Like it? Hate it? Have any ideas? Tell me!

I'm so excited because this is the first story that I actually have AN ENDING PLANNED OUT! (Bobs around.) Yes, this story WILL BE FINISHED. One way or another. It may take forever and a day, but it will get finished. Lest Mario have a heart attack.

Oh, and one last thing. Ahem. OH MY GOSH HAS ANYONE SEEN THE NEW CUT SCENE ON YOUTUBE WHERE LARXENE FLIRTS WITH AXEL AND ACTUALLY TOUCHES HIM? I love RE:COM. I do. I want to marry it. Now. And have its children. Ahem. Anyway.

Alright. Enough blabber. Cookies!

...is there forty different kind of cookies out there? I may have to resort to candy...

Can I say something? You guys are truly hilarious. You have no idea how many times I crack up laughing at your humorous reviews. It's an honor to be considered funny by you when you yourselves are all so hilarious to begin with.

(Hands Kill-All-Flamers a chocolate rasin cookie.) Aw! I am touched beyond words that I am one of the few fictions you check! I am sooo glad I (apparently) help restore faith to the fanfiction scene, even if I think my writing is mostly chicken scratch anyways. Thanks a billion for pointing out specific things you liked! It always helps me see what's actually funny and what's, um, not. Heh, Demyx crying. I deserve to burn in hell for the things I make him go through...(BTW: your screen name is amazing. XD)

(Hands Media Maiden some tootsie rolls, since I gave you cookies last time.) Okay, hostage situation. I'll trade Squirt for Demyx. I dunno how Axel will feel about it, seeing as though it is his son and all, but whatever. I need my sitar player. Like, now. Thanks a billion for being honest with me! No, really, when you told me the Nemo insert was less than hilarious (at least the way I wrote it—or failed too—seeing as though the initial concept was given to me by a fellow reviewer and I most likely did not do their idea justice...I'll give them extra cookies) I can learn from that oh-so much. Honesty IS always the best policy, at least whilst reviewing. And while in court. Unless you did something wrong. But I digress.

(Hands Dark Phantom a Broadway soundtrack and some lolly pops. Ha ha ha! Get it? Soundtrack? Phantom of the Opera? I AM SO FUNNY! HA HA HA! Okay, that was lame and I knew it. Moving on.) I keep characters in character! (Does a happy dance!) Oh, that makes my heart jump with glee. Authors have fangasms when they hear such. Oh, gosh, no: NO EMO ROXAS. I am so sick of him being emo! I mean, he eventually goes emo, but MY GOODNESS most people turn him into a walking billboard for Prozac. I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so. YES! I accomplished exactly what I wanted to with Larxene! Sadistic yet...somewhat sweet. Another fangasm ensues. There IS a fanfiction somewhere on the realm of deviant art that involves Demyx with a dancer nobody. I never read it though. Aw, you called my writing ingenious! Will you please marry me?

(Buries Espeakus in a mountain of Saix plushies and cream filled doughnuts.) Oh, my dear, dear Espeakus. How I have missed you. You have no idea. :( I should write you one of my crappy attempts at a one shot involving Saix just to appease you. I'll make it an insert fic. You can marry him and have his children. You were going to read my story OUTLOUD? (Faints.) I am so flattered! Like, you actually want to participate in this activity! My writing is actually coherent enough! YAY! Haha, you caught onto the salt water. Mario didn't even pick up on that one. You are smart. OMGSH: MEGARA! I know you are cautious when it comes to Larxel so...I shall repeat: MEGARA! Not a princess of heart (I think) but she, like, pwns all. And she's not Larxene. So you should be happy. ROTFL! LOL! GASP GASP! Your comments about SNOW WHITE! Oh my goodness, I will never look at that movie the same way again! Thank you for emotionally scarring me for life; it was so terribly amusing! You are not a rabid Axel fan girl? EESGAP! How dare thee speak such blasphemy! Heh, my dirty chapter. At least there was no gratuitous butt sex. SINEPS! Holy cow, when did this word come into existence? Why have I not heard of it before? Oh, I can die happy! I am ever so honored that you believe I can make sineps, toilets, and naked white Axel butts with sea horse children amusing. (No, really, I am very flattered. Seriously.) You are **WELCOME** for Saix because you **so totally deserved it**!!!!! OO Uh-oh, I fail at writing again. I was not clear; the insinuation was that Axel IS, indeed, a virgin. Larxene called him one, expecting him argue and defend himself and be all like 'WTF I SO TOTALLY USED TO GET LAID!' but he remained silent. Hm. I should go back and clear that up. (Cracks up at the thought of eating Ariel.) Wow. I think that was the longest review I have ever received. KUDOS!

(Gives Constance a billion zajillion million Oreos and such.) Please don't kill me for the karma line! Seriously, if you're totally pissed off I was inspired by it, just tell me and it will be off the story in five minutes. It just...fit so nicely. Like 'discordia' did in 'Redemption.' I gave you credit, cuz you are the genius master mind, not me. So kick me if necessary. HA! No, Axel will not end up with Ariel, it will be MEGARA! Well, hypothetically speaking. He could very well get sick of her by the end of the world. Or kill her. Or some such nonsense. (Wow, eyes like electric factories really made you laugh? COOL!) SJKhlkjasdfifdkjh Roxas crapping gummi ship shaped turds. I pulled that idea out of my butt. Literally. Horrah, you picked up on the awkward pauses in conversation during the Larxel! This makes me happy! Goal accomplished! (Gives self a cookie. Overload of sugar interacts with medications and Vixen consequently dies.) Dude, send me the lion sketches. Now. Or no cookies for you! Also: write that first person Axel story or whatever it was you were thinking of doing. I long to read it. And: OMGOSH how did you guess Olympia? NOT. FAIR. Thank you so very, very much for your review. It was long and it was well thought out and it was amazingly hilarious. And insanely complimentary. To the point where I am undeserving. (Glomps.)

(Hands Anonymous some delicious Peeps, economy size, purchased at the local Sam's Club. Got a discount, so I got two.) You actually LIKED the suicidal Ursula line? THANK GOD. I thought it was so lame! But I, like, wrote it into the paragraph so I couldn't get rid of it. Tee hee hee. You like Squirt. I am so happy! Ha: 'wa-I-have-no-soul.' I hate it when people make him like that for the ENTIRE STORY. If he were always that down and pessimistic, I find it hard to believe Axel would have became his best friend. Of course, he can't always stay chipper, because than he wouldn't have left in the first place. Anyway, Vixen is digressing. "Last, but not least, I give you the early-Christmas gift (Or Hanukah, or Ramadan, or another type of celebratory event that takes place in December, whichever you celebrate.)" Um, hilarious much? You should do stand up or something. Or write your own KH comedy. Of course, it would then consequently beat mine to hell and I would be sad for all eternity. But they make pills for that.

(Gives CrazyFFKHOttsel batches of cookie dough.) HA! I'M TWISTED! Strangely, I find that flattering. Oh, omgsh, I never thought about the emotional ramifications Squirt would suffer after all this. Someone should speak with child services. Oh goodness, you thought the suicidal Ursula line was funny too? (Read above cookie for details.) Thank you Jesus. I thought I'd get flamed to literary hell for my utter lameness.

(Hands Ritsuka some yummy yummy Milk Duds.) I am so honored to be considered amongst your favorites! WEE! I am also happy you are having a good time reading this, lol. Yes, Axel has a kid. I do not think I was residing on this plane of reality when I thought that one up.

(Hands a bucket of fudge to Fantasie.) Hee hee, possible Larxel, possible Megaxela (ahem, Axel X Megara...wow, I need to work on that one.) I'm not telling! Mwa ha ha. How I enjoy building suspense. I want to produce a sea horse, too (as offspring, I mean.) LOL: Bloody Hell Forever!

(Hands Anthrax Pretzels some...uh, pretzels? Wow, I'm lame.) LOL: awesomeness in a can! Hilarious! And I'm glad you like Axel's characterization! And I am VERY glad I apparently give hope to the KH section. I'm so flattered.

(Dumps a truckload of various sweets on Ri2's head.) Oh, how I love your list reviews, for they point out specifics and that makes any author happy. XD XD XD XD! Yeah, I made Axel a virgin. I guess I was trying to flesh him out a little...show that he's not really as tough/macho as he acts. Also, it's a nice differentiation from how's he is usually written (read: the fandom whore.) Wow, you made a really good point: Roxas didn't leave before Namine, did he? Unless, like, Namine was wandering around lost for awhile after the two of them died at the same time. Um, yeah. That's my excuse!

(Gives Nocturnal a java chip frappucino and some brownies to go with.) You just compared my story to drugs. I find that amazing. Like, that made my night. You have no idea. But you know what really made my night? LARXEL IS GROWING ON YOU! (Though not literally, like you pointed out.) Hee hee, even if they don't get together (shifty eyes; is not giving away the ending) I'm glad I was able to write decent enough to make you start to like them. Yay, I did something right! Thanks for thanking me, as strange as that sounds. Ha ha. It was nice to hear...or more accurately, read. But you know what I mean.

(Hands Childhood a bowl of ice cream smothered with three different kinds of hot fudge.) You checked for updates everyday? GAH, you people are too GOOD to me! I was so flattered by all your compliments (I really need to find some synonyms for flattered.) Well, here's another chapter to quench your thirst for more insane, psychotic Axel.

(Gives Admiral a stack of Sweet Tarts.) I made you dance? Oh! I feel so very very special! I even made you stand up! HA! I feel about one hundred feet tall right about now. And, oh my gosh, you and Erik are so benevolent it's not even funny. Like, I can always count on you guys to be thinking of me. It's insane. (Totally in a good way.) You read the Larxel scene twice? Okay, now I'm just floating on air because I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU LIKED IT that much! And and and andandand you like Larxene X Demyx usually! (Oh, how I would sell you my soul if you could so kindly point me in the direction of a good Demyx X Larxene fiction. Nirvana.) Five minutes ago? Oh dear. It's been three months, hasn't it? (Runs away and hides.) Spare my life, please!

(Gives Thiev some apricots...because I am random, and candy is bad for your teeth.) LOL LOL LOL LOL! FLUFF! Oh geez, I have a fluff fixation. Heh: so how did you like the end of this chapter? Totally not fluffy, right? I mean, that was some hard core ACTION going on in that flashback (retrieve your mind from the gutter, please.) Yes, yes there was. Heh. Bath salts. Yum. Oh, and yes, you can count on at least some action next chapter considering the tournament and all.

(Hands Pikachu some, er, Pokeballs and Pixie Sticks, because those things are amazing.) Gah! I made you squirt water! And nearly collapse! YAY! (I mean, not collapsing so much as squirting; if you were to injure yourself in the process of falling I'm afraid I would have to offer you compensation of some sort. Perhaps in the form of money.) And HORRAH! You liked my pathetic attempt at a Larxel scene. Wee! (Happy Vixen jumps up and down because she achieved her goal.) And for mental image land, Squirt is just a plain old sea horse...that can, like, talk and stuff. Hee.

(Gives Akiraine a tiny bag of Smarties, not because I hate you but because Walmart was out of stock. In response, I also bought you a house. It's not edible, but it's fun to look at. Vixen then proceeds to bow and exalt accordingly.) Yeah, I felt bad about the bag of Smarties being so small. Anyway. YOUR REVIEW WAS INSANELY LONG. And omgsh. I LOVED it! Like, do you not understand how much joy this causes me? Indeed. I am so glad someone else inspires themselves to write by reading horrible fanfics. That is exactly what I do. All the time. I read more bad ones on purpose than I do good ones. It's...therapeutic. Because at least I know that I can use the friggin spell check (hits fanbrats over the head who openly admit they were too lazy to use the spell check.) Oh, hurrah! You like the Xaldin kid idea thingie ma bopper. I plan on elaborating on that in the near future. Hee hee. "...his former name was Ale." What were the game developers thinking when they named him LEA? That's just asking for trouble right there. Heh. LOL: you had to sign a liability waver for your tea! I feel so proud! And yes, I often think about the dire consequences that would ensue if I were to actually make Axel gay at the end of this fiction, hunt out Roxas in the alternate dimension, and have a night of hot kinky butt sex with the juvenile. But no, that will never happen, because...I said so. Ha. (Thank you SO MUCH for pointing out what you liked specifically! It helps me so much! I can see what is actually funny and what is, um, not. Ha ha ha.)

(Glomps Erik!!!!! Then remembers she is supposed to feed him something. Lets go so as not to suffocate him and then proceeds to ram candy corn down his throat for being so nice.) Yeah, that WAS a really long chapter, wasn't it? Glad you enjoyed it so much! WOOT! I see you really, really liked Luxord's cameo. Heh. That was rather fun to write. I'm very honored to be able to make you want to replay the games. I even provoked the feeling of nostalgia, which I have never done before! Yippee! Thank Heavens, you too picked up on the Larxel moments I threw in there. I'm glad the dramatic irony of them punching each other and then proceeding to hold a cordial conversation was not lost on my readers. (Yeah, I made Axel a virgin XD That is quite amusing, isn't it?) LARXEL SHIPPER!? I have converted thee! Oi, my life is complete! I can die happy! (It always makes an author feel good when readers tell them their story was decent enough to change their original opinion. Tee hee.) RE:COM has gaboodles of new cut scenes (which you probably know by now...it's been three months since I last updated, lol.) Check out Youtube. Most of them are up there. (Vixen drools at the prospect of more 3D Axel. Why did he have to die? WHY?)

(Hugs Roxasroxox and gives a stocking full of plushie teddy bears and candy canes.) You make me blush. Really. Flattering me like that. With all those amazing compliments. I feel so loved. Hee hee. And all I am able to give you in return are inedible cyber cookies. I fail at life. (OMGSH LOL: I make Larxene seem almost human!!!) The strip tease thing was a result of too much caffeine too late at night. And as for Axel being a virgin—I threw in a plot twist. Didn't think anyone was expecting to find that out. And I have my reasons for such things. I just can't go into them because, well, SUSPENSE NEEDS TO BE BUILT! Tee hee. I am so evil. Thanks again for your benevolent words. They make me feel tingly inside.

(Hands anonymous some butter scotch cookies. I totally just made that up. Do they even exist?) Ha ha ha! Sora as a cute fishie! I don't care what Axel turns into, as long as he has no shirt. Heh. Vixen likes a shirtless Axel. "Look at my abs, aren't they neat?" Yes. Yes they are Axel. Lol, checker matches. That idea randomly sprouted out of my head at three in the morning. I get my craziest ideas at obscene hours at night.

(Smothers ChaoticDarling with a whole mess full of Swedish Fish.) I have NO idea why there aren't more Larxels out there. It perturbs me greatly. I mean, seriously. They fit so well together. It's, like, lunacy that the pairing is neglected as it is. Ha ha ha! Yes, my chapters are rather long, aren't they? I'm long winded, what can I say? Thank you so much for your lovely compliments! They make me muy muy happy!

(Gobbles home made fudge Xemagirl offered and in returns proffers her some jelly beans.) You are writing a Zexion story? Oooh! Send me the link! I love Zexion! He's so fantastically...um, something. He's something. I don't know what it is. But I like the guy. A lot. Not as much as our dear Axel of course. But still: a lot.

(Hands Shizuka some sugar wafers and a glass of milk.) HORRAH! I make OCs believable! (Happy dance.) That is SO good to hear. You have no idea how worried I was that people would flame poor Adelaide. Ha ha ha, Disney Girl X FF Character. Is that legal? Doesn't matter, I'm doing it. Well, trying to. We'll see how long it lasts (shifty eyes.) Thank you so much for being honest and pointing out Luxord being a tad off. It's helpful when people tell me these things. I can go back and fix them, which I will as soon as I finish the story (I complete it first, then go back. It's easier to concentrate that way.) Thank you for your benevolent insight. It helps me gaboodles!

(Gives MOLTENblue some Sour Patch Kids. Yum.) Yippee! Thank you so much for your nice words of niceness! I am so glad that you think I can capture humor and serious tones at the same time—MY INTENTIONS EXACTLY! Horrah! My goals were met!

(Hands Minnet some pop corn and a Pepsi.) LOL: Lifetime movies! Ha! Yeah. I enjoyed giving him that quirk too. Sorry you had to sit through one of them. LOL: Metrosexual! OMGSH, your favorite line. Yeah, I have no idea where that came from. I...I don't even want to know. It just happened. I don't know why I was even thinking about it. AW! You thought of my fiction when you were watching POTC2? I feel so honored! Like, my stories carry over into reality! Well, as close to reality as POTC can get. Lol, clown head. That, too, came out of nowhere. Glad to see you liked it. I made you squeal with happiness when I update? Aw, I feel special!

(Gives Iceburgundy a life size model of the Titanic—I am the lamest person ever to exist—and some ice cream, because that is cold, like ice bergs. I deserve to be shot for that last line.) Yeah, Xigbar and Larxene is totally, like, creepy-tastic. I don't know what exactly it was that inspired me to make him the bad guy, but I did. I make no claims to mental sanity. Anyway, I am SO very happy you like Squirt, and it's nice to see someone recognizes his value in the story. And total happiness ensued after you complimented my sense of humor, molded into Axel's sense. I am much lamer by far. Axel is actually, I dunno, intelligent? LOL. Thank you for reviewing!

(Gobbles sugar cookies from Story Waver and hands him some Gummy Worms in response.) Pink. I love pink. If God had a favorite color, it would be pink, because it is just that awesome. Oh! The Larxel scene! You likee! Happiness. And you even liked Axel's infatuation with Larxene's laugh. Heh. And both of them trying to get rid of Saix without really saying it. That was fun to write. And yes, Axel would be one to be all macho with his affection for his son, no? Though he does tend to go all mushy when he's with him. It is a strange combination, one I am not to sure I understand completely, yet I am the author. (Geesh, it is scary when you write things that even you yourself don't understand.) Thank you for always reviewing and being so considerate with what you say. You deserve an entire stocking full of Christmas presents even though it is not really Christmas. (Nods.) Yes you do.

(Hands Chaotic Darling some more sugar cookies for reviewing twice.) LOL! You read everything twice! I am so flattered! You even reviewed twice! More flattery ensues and Vixen feels invincible. (And she is very concerned about the fact you have to go pee. Maybe you should go take care of that.) Why am I referring to myself in the third person? Anyway, yes, the ending moments in all the worlds are always a blast to write, I can only hope they are a blast to read as well. :)

(Hugs Golden Memories to the point of suffocation for giving me espresso sprinkles. Hands her some chocolate bars in response.) Aw, Saix was a hit! I am so happy! I was wondering if I did him justice, and it is very heart warming to see you think so. (It is also very heart warming that you'd favorite my story twice if you could.) LOL: the Nemo line. SO not my idea. So all compliments should be directed to my reviewers who came up with it. And, yeah, Axel did leave Atlantica abruptly. I didn't quite know how to go about that without having Ariel burst into tears. That and Axel just doesn't strike me as the type to do long, drawn out, emo goodbyes. Saix would, though.

(Gives JK and Chibi2 some happy chocolate bunnies.) LOL: update now or else! And I am so honored that you actually think me funny enough to read my work out loud. Hee hee. Makes me happy.

(SPLAT! OMGSH SPLAT! Vixen stops hyperventilating and tries to think of some high sugar food to appease you with. Hands you a triple chocolate cookie with fudge on the side.) AHAHAHAH! I missed thee! And, wow, your 'get thy ass published' line? Totally made my life. Heh. Your Disney/suicide parallels are something I will remember for all eternity. HORRAH! You liked my attempt at Saix! Score! And I honestly can say I have no earthly idea why Disney insists on being a sequel-whore company that ruins all the originals with crappy editions that don't know when to stop. They are up to Cinderella Friggin Three. (Oh well, nothing will ever be as bad as the horribly abused Land Before Time franchise. Never. End of story.) LOL: Muxel. Amazing. And how did you like Megaxel? Hee hee. Figured you'd, like, love. MORE STDS THAN JAMES BOND! Omgsh, I will never think of Peter (or Bond for that matter) the same again. Ever. Eep. Your review totally made my life worth living.

(Hands Senbazuru a mansion full of sugar loaded Peeps. Yum.) Okay, so your review is exactly what I have been longing to hear ever since I was born: I allegedly give characters distinctive personalities and voice. I want to print that comment out and mount it on my wall for all eternity. Perhaps be buried with it. I dunno. It was just the perfect thing to say because it made me bounce around like a sugar induced freakazoid Roxas wanna be. (Before he went all emo, mind you.) Not that Roxas is a freakazoid, but I am. Anyway. I love you too. I missed Valentines Day, so I hope the Peeps suffice as a proclamation of my love.

(Gives mynameisriku some yummy Skittles.) Aw! I am so flattered you think me funny! Wee! And yes, I added more Demyx! I love him, he's amazing. And I started this lame attempt at a Zexion fiction. He's actually not a vegan in that one, LOL.

(Smothers Hope in a bathtub full of Easter candy.) I induced spasms? AH! Sorry! Though apparently they were happy spasms, so all is well. LOL: favorite chapter yet? That actually helps me a lot! WEE! LOL: this review was left back when there were only TWO chapters on Waterlogged! (And stop calling yourself a dork for watching Hercules, I had to do the same thing for character research.) Hades and Axel in the same room...EGO TO SUFFOCATE ALL LIFE. Attack of the fluff! I added fluff in this one too, for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Figured you'd appreciate such things. Hee. Every story needs a certain amount of fluff, am I right? (You had better agree, or no cookies for you!) And your compliments make me float on air. Seriously. Stop being so nice, I don't deserve it!

(Hands Nightshroud some Starbursts.) GAH! I didn't mean to hurt your sides! I am sorry! LOL. I am so flattered you think so highly of my story. Hee.

(Gives the Ruby Nightmare extra oatmeal cookies for being right in her prediction concerning Megara.) You must be a psychic. I'm sorry I made you fall off your chair, please don't sue me! I hope you didn't break anything! Heehee, glad to see you like the angle with Ariel. Happiness!

(Hands SonChan a million bazillion butter cookies.) You called me original! YAY! And you called my humor golden! Double YAY! Oh, and BTW, I am dying to see what Disney girls you thought Axel would go well with! Was one of them Megara? Or Jasmine? OR OMGSH MAYBE IT'S AURORA FROM SLEEPING BEAUTY! Not that I have anything against her, but she's asleep half the time and I'm thinking Axel would get kinda bored. Atlantica and Pirates were very, very fun to write and actually required the most research. Glad to see it paid off. And thank you oh so much for your kind words concerning my sickness. They made me feel mucho better.

(Hugs Mousewolf for being funny and leaving a review for every chapter! Then Vixen hands her some Twizzlers.) No! Please don't die! Your Axel one shot was too funny for you to die, you must write more! I beg thee!

(Gives Fugitive a bucket of Butterfingers.) HORRAH! I updated!

(Hands From The Depths Of Dreams/Grease a infinite number of Milky Ways, because they're amazing.) You are too kind. Seriously. You said everything I ever wanted to hear. All those positive adjectives...I think my mind exploded. No, literally. It was just like: does not compute. Story is not that good. But but butbutbut you seem to think so! So that makes me happy inside! Hee hee. Eep, don't anger your mother by staying up late, otherwise she'll blame me! Ya know what, on second thought, let her blame me. Because I am not her daughter and therefore she can not consequently ground me. I'll take the blame. Yup. You go right ahead and blame everything on me. Sounds like a plan.

o-o-o-o-o

Further Reading

Mario is begging me to plug his new one shot into my author's notes so he can gain that elusive thing commonly referred to as publicity. "TV Hour At The Castle That Never Was." There. I advertised. I expect compensation from him of some sort. Perhaps in monetary means.

Also, if you are looking for a good _serious_ KH fic:

"Even The Strong Won't Survive" by xsynthetic smile is quite delicious.

As is 'fall out' by ConstanceGreene.

And hopeislost908 has some kick butt youtube videos for the crack pairing of ArielXDemyx.

Love You Guys.


	13. Olympus Part Two

The funny thing about Meg was this: she was so lithe I was beginning to believe she was nothing more than a skin bag of organs and bones. Is it wrong for a guy to want a girl who comes with a little extra meat? (Holy hell, insert mental face palm here, I _so_ did not just sound like Xigbar...) I mean, not saying that I can speak for the rest of the Organization (since we all happen to be skinny enough to look like we're missing half our ribs or some vital body organs were donated to Xemnas for science) but an obese significant other shouldn't be ruled out entirely. Take Roxas, for example. He claims he favors blondes but we all know he'd probably have gone out with a female monkey so long as he can make her laugh.

In fact, he's stupid enough to go out with his own cousin so long so he can make her laugh.

Was.

He _was_ stupid enough. Now he's too emo, or too damn forgetful, to realize he would have done something like that in the first place.

Of course, the burden is on us who do remember, which is ironic considering the fact I don't remember much of anything to begin with. Except my sister was named Adelaide, Belle is a literary snob that reads ridiculous but apparently very poignant poetry, Mulan is a transvestite, Elizabeth has an infatuation with sharp, pointy objects of mass destruction, Ariel has a hollow gap where her brains are supposed to be (and apparently wears a size sea), and Demyx is gay.

Other than that though, I must say I come up blank.

(Which is not to be confused with saying I _shoot_ blanks, which is another thing entirely.)

Then again, not like I would know.

"So, do you usually feel the innate and dire urge to kill things?" Megara implored from in front of me as she lead the way to the underground arena.

"Mostly," I answered absent mindedly. I was still trying to knock Roxas out of my head (and given all the past sexual innuendo, I almost reiterated: knock Roxas _up_, which would be news to me because I wasn't aware I swung that way.) "They haven't really invented pills for that yet. Though apparently Xemnas is working on them."

"Who's Xemnas?" Megara questioned, sauntering over a cobblestone bridge that loomed precariously over a bubbling pit of green, liquefied snot.

"...My Daddy..." I dead panned, trying not to smirk at my own lame attempt at humor, for I did not feel like getting into a three hour long dissertation as to why I lived in a castle with ten other males that wasn't a fraternity house.

"Oh, you're father's a doctor?"

And, well, I shouldn't have laughed but I did. I mean, Megara sounded so genuinely interested, and the thought of Xemnas as a physician is almost too much to bare.

'I'm sorry, sir, but you appear to have stage four terminal brain cancer. You'll be dead in six months.' Pause. 'Isn't that _exciting_? I can't wait for you to join my evil diabolical league of the undead! You even get to change your name and add a totally unnecessary 'x' to it! Now whatdya say I take you to my office so you can sign some legal papers?'

Leave it to Xemnas to sales pitch the afterlife.

Oh the conversations he and Burning Brains would have.

Eventually Meg lead me up to a massive underground coliseum, which was pretty reminiscent of the one Demyx was currently getting his butt kicked in except that this one had a much...more emo...feel. Everything was dark, dank, and delectably eerie. Kind of like Vexen's bed room. Or Larxene's torture chamber.

I guess you could say the whole layout was also intimidating, but I don't get intimidated. Except around possibly Belle, who has the ability to bring me to my knees in a matter of seconds. (My internally bleeding knees, at that.) So did Megara, for that matter, but that was more of willing, groveling, begging sort of thing. I think there are some planets that refer to it as 'proposing.'

(...And I'll be damned if I'm gonna cough up two month's salary for a stupid shiny rock that really has no relevance to a future life of matrimony except as a guilt tactic to convince men to spend obscene amounts of money in order to prove their love to unsuspecting females...)

You don't see them buying _us_ jewelry, now do you?

And before I knew it Meg had lead me up to the vast entry way of the basement coliseum, which reeked of sweat and blood and urine and probably other bodily excrements I don't feel like naming. Use your imagination. It'll help you live longer.

"This is it," she declared, with an unenthusiastic sweep of her hand. "Try to keep your dress on."

"Trench coat," I corrected, stepping inside the coliseum's confines. The ground was appropriately stained in blood, since I guess there were no cross bred mammals running around attempting to keep things in order. There were two homely looking demon minions playing checkers in the bleachers; one skinny and long nosed, like a stringy booger, and the other short and plump, like an asphyxiating coconut.

I kept such internal observations to myself.

"That's Panic and Pain," Megara offered, following my disturbed gaze.

"Hey sista!" one called, petitioning Megara, and waving an appendage in the air. "Who's the fella?"

"Sister?" I reiterated, praying to all things holy that they were not spawned from the same womb. Can you imagine the genetic repercussions? She may pop out babies that looked like multi colored fruit baskets.

"We're familiar," Meg breezed, not willing to partake in the details.

"Adopted?" I suggested hopefully.

"Sure, why not?"

The lanky green one scuttled over to where we were situated, nervously wringing his hands as he stood before us and displayed his very irritating eye twitch. I wanted to solve his problem by gorging it out, but that was better left to Larxene. Though she was more skilled in torture dealing with the southern regions of the male anatomy, I'm sure she would be willing to make an exception for a scraggly demon and my corresponding sanity.

"What's he doing here?" the snot colored one implored. "He can't be here. He can't. Hades won't like that. No, no...this is bad, Megara. This is very, very bad."

"Relax Panic, he's just here to sate his blood lust."

"And impress her," I added hopefully. I got nothing as far as response is concerned. Bummer.

"Is he in it for the prize?" the other one—Pain, I presume—called from the checker board. I noticed, with slight dismay and rather gross infatuation, that the checker pieces were various animal skulls, half of which were dipped in blood for a corresponding red color.

"I am not an object to be lusted after," Meg snipped out.

I paused. "You lost me there."

"But but but it doesn't matter if he's in it for the prize, Meg! Hades picks the contestants, you know that!"

"And he purposely picks the weak ones so he can keep me longer," she muttered. "I'm sick of it. I say I get to chose once in awhile."

"Whoa, hey, whoa," I interrupted. "I don't know what the heck you guys are talking about, but I just want to kill something."

All three sets of eyes turned to stare at my dimly.

"Looks like you grabbed yourself a scholar there, sista," Pain grumbled, flicking and animal skull across the bench.

"He's smarter than he looks."

Bloody hell. Enough of this demoting. There weren't any penalties to killing demonic civilians for sport last time I checked.

I ignited my pointer finger and zapped a flame over in Pain's general direction. Almost immediately, his oily little rump ignited in a small inferno and he was left to run around in circles crying, "My rump! My rump! My rump is on fire!"

"Oooooh," Panic shuddered from my feet. "He even has Hades' power! He's not going to like this Meg! You know he's not!"

I solved _that_ problem by promptly kicking Panic across the arena and into the dirt.

Under normal circumstances, I'd keep my benevolency in check, but these were demons I was dealing with, so what does it matter? Besides; I'm a villain, remember? Not a hero.

"Nice shot," Meg drawled out, sauntering over to the sidelines and into a crudely labeled locker room. Confused, I remained outside, and watched as Pain tried to un-ignite his bottom by spitting unsuccessfully over his shoulder. Heh. Who's the scholar now?

I stood there a while longer, waiting for Meg to return, hopefully in lingerie of some kind, but I somehow doubt she went into the locker room to actually change. Perhaps she was fetching a minion for me to kill. Or a Heartless or Nobody they had captive. In that case it would probably be one of Demyx's, for he could never keep track of all his minions, and they were always showing up in odd places when we least expected it.

"Cute. You're drinking again, imagine that," I heard the sardonic voice of Meg leak out. I shuffled from side to side anxiously.

A Heartless that drinks? Well, now, that was something new.

"Busy being emo, I presume?"

"Why do you insist on pestering me with your presence, Megara?"

"Come on Geezer, you've got a competitor. You need to move it. That is, if the arthritis hasn't kicked in."

"I do not find you conceits amusing."

"Really? Cuz I do. I think I'm a riot a minute."

Oh. I am _so_ in lust with this woman. I don't even need to see her to properly lust after her. And how rare is that?

Soon enough, Meg returned, and in her wake there stood a rather grouchy looking old man with an odd fashion statement as far as hair was concerned and very intimidating arm muscles. He had a Jay Leno streak going on and chose to garb himself completely in red, a kick ass samurai sword flanking his back.

The most confusing thing, however, was that he chose to wear sunglasses even though he could only see out of one eye. I found that amusing.

"Nice specs," I drawled, referring to his spectacles, shaded and, as Meg had pointed out earlier, appropriately emo looking.

"Tell me it's not him."

"How many times do I have to say he's smarter than he looks?"

"Oh, gods," I grumbled. "Don't tell me you're a dick too."

Pain and Panic both made baffling noises when they heard themselves being compared to male genitaltilia. Disney characters aren't used to that.

The man's half face, for most of it was covered by his ridiculously over grown collar that looked like it was in an epic quest to conquer his head, scrunched up like a washboard and he then muttered something in another language. I think I heard hints of Japanese.

"Auron, be nice," Megara chided.

He turned to look at her. "...why?"

Ha. Good point.

"Karma?" I suggested meekly.

Auron glared at me with his one eye. Insert a manly grunt her. "Despicable."

"I prefer delectable."

"Boys," Meg broke in, trying to repress her smirk that was dying to come out (no pun intended, what with being in the Underworld and all...gods I'm lame...)

"I suppose we have to go and fetch Hades," Auron grunted in an animalistic sort of way. I wondered momentarily if he was fully done evolving.

"Oh, good ol' Burning Brains?"

Another glare. Another grunt.

"I don't particularly wish for his accompaniment," Auron relayed to an impishly posed Meg, eating up our camaraderie like a drunk ingests alcohol.

"Good, it's settled then," I announced, for I thrive off being difficult. It's one of the few things left that I still enjoy. "I'll be your chaperone."

"Damn Yevon," came another cro-magna huff.

"I thought Yevon wasn't real," Megara teased, pulling one the man's oversized sleeves.

"Habit," was the warranted one word response.

"How come he lets you tease him?" I questioned in passing.

"I remind him of his summoner," she explained with a smile and a wink, though I guess it wasn't much as far as explanations go, because, last time I checked, they were supposed to clear things up, not confuse you more.

"Oh. Well then. Who do I remind you of?" I queried, attempting to pull on Auron's other sleeve only to have him pull away.

"_Tidus_," he spat, then continued looming forward.

"That a good thing?"

"I have no idea," Meg responded, shrugging so that one of her toga straps drooped lifelessly to her elbow.

Aw. That was hotter than hell.

"Hey! Old man! Wait up!"

"...he really _is_ Tidus..."

I let the matter drop and proceeded to continue, hot on his tail. Eventually he led me down another nondescript canny way that looked just the same as all the others, what with the snot bubbling on either side and the stench being just as revolting. All the Underworld looks the same. I should have consulted mapquest.

I heard Meg's admonishments of Pain and Panic die off in the distance, her beautifully snarky yet melodic voice fading in my ears and we increased our ground into the eerie caverns of despair and melodrama.

"Why couldn't Megara have tagged along?" I whined, not really meaning to, but my age regresses without my consent in times of emotional anguish.

"If you wanted to be in her presence, then you should have stayed."

"Now why would I do that? I'm never going to figure out your weakness if I don't stalk you. Besides, it's what we villains are good at. Stalking and stuff. And killing. We're good at that too."

Okay. So I was a tad pumped up from my previous conversation with Meg, which was the fist positive discussion I have had with a female since I left home. (I just referred to the World That Never Was as my home again. I have to stop doing that.) I mean, Ariel liked me well enough, but I think she would like anything that held the ability to communicate, even the singing broccoli at Beast's Castle.

Now there's a mental image. Ariel. With the singing silverware.

They would never stop...talking.

Agony.

"So, um, you hang out here for fun?" I ventured, trying to strike up a scintillating conversation, and hopefully catch a whiff of weakness in the process.

"I'm dead."

Pause.

"Cool. So am I."

Another pause.

"I don't care."

Pause again.

"Well, alright then."

I meandered after Auron in silence, eyeing his samurai sword suspiciously as it waved back and forth in front of me like a pendulum in time to the man's hunkering steps. It was a little intimidating, that is, if I was one for intimidation, which I'm not, so I guess it wasn't really intimidating, now was it?

I watched as the Chronically Depressed One took a swig from a giant brown bottle he kept latched to his side at all times. I thought I heard him mutter something about 'being driven to drink' and this sparked inquiries anew.

"Hey, can I have a swig of that?"

"Hell no."

Some more interspersed silence. Enough time went by to drop the subject. At least until I brought it up again.

"Well why not?"

"Because I'm not wasting my Saki on _you_."

Oh. Holy Hell. It was alcohol. Actual alcohol.

I could practically hear Roxas' voice screaming inside my head: _you __**need**__ to get your hands on some of that!_

"You really are a dick," I threw out aimlessly, fear never being a dominant emotion for me. I don't care how bad ass the guy looked, he was dead like me, after all. What harm could we possibly do each other?

"Why does she insist on always bringing the insolent fools home?"

I paused.

"Excuse me?"

Apparently Auron didn't think there was any need for elaboration. Tough. I did.

"I am not an insolent fool," I argued. There was no way I was going to let this Alzheimer's advocate pull a Belle on me. I was not going to be made inferior again. Especially to some bitter alcoholic dead guy. Even Luxord keeps his liquor in check.

I did not even warrant so much as a full sentence in response.

"And what do you mean by bringing home? Is this some strange family dinner thing?"

"...did she bother to tell you _anything_?"

I stopped short. "Um. What is there to tell?"

"_Tich_." And that was all I got. No, really. Just that expelled excuse for an answer. Jerk off. I was going to enjoy burning this guy.

I contemplated stepping on his over grown tent of an overcoat just to be difficult, but I figured I'd save it for the arena. That way Meg could watch.

"So do you think she'd like a beg wedding or a small one?"

"She'd be marrying down either way."

Ouch.

"Alright. Enough of this 'holier than thou' bull crap I've been putting up with at every single planet I've been sent to. Meg was the first person to treat me with any amount of decency, and I'll be damned if I didn't fall for that. And I don't have to restrain myself around you because, guess what? You're not a girl. I can holler and curse and burn you all I want because you seem to have some high fulutent stick up you ass that makes you think you're better than me. Which you're not, by the way. You're definitely not. And _excuse_ _me_ for not moping in dark caverns all day and mourning the loss of the life I once had. And _excuse_ _me_ for trying to get Meg to crack a smile once in awhile, which seems to be more than you're willing to do. I'd rather make love to a woman than a bottle of Saki. But that's just the way I roll. Maybe you samurais are different."

I then paused to inhale. I hadn't delivered a soliloquy that long since Roxas contemplated leaving the Organization. And that was a while ago. My lungs were out of practice. Larxene never let me get that many words out at a time in my defense and nobody else in the Organization cared enough to hear what I had to say anyway. I doubted Auron did, either, but since it involved his knock off summoner I suspected he'd listen. And he did. Which I still can't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

He chose now to whirl around and face me, for the first and last time, on our epic quest to Hades the Hell Lord. I want to say I didn't stumble backward out of surprise, but I did. It was a habitual action, I can't be blamed. That coupled with Auron's impending inertia and any man is liable to buckle in his wake.

"You stupid boys are all the same," he growled, voice a deep timbre of resonance I did not know he was capable of exuding. "Always thinking with your fifth appendage as opposed to your brain. You barely know Megara. You know her name and her waist size, but did you even bother to learn anything more? She's more self destructive than a demolition derby and _by gods_ if she marries anyone other than a certified hero she'll be the cause of her own demise. For her to back pedal and fall in lieu with a self proclaimed villain would destroy what little soul is left within her, and _I'll_ be damned before I let that happen."

I stood there, slack jawed and mouth agape. And what do you say to that? No, really, _what do you say to that_? It would have even left Roxas speechless. Larxene would have been liable to flip him off, but here's the thing. I have a conscious. Deep, deep, deep down, I like to pretend I have a conscious. And screw you if you don't believe it. Maybe it's true and maybe it's not, but I like to pretend. It's what keeps me going. And I _know_ Roxas had a conscious, and I like to pretend that's why we were friends. So soul or not, that frickin _hurt_. I'm more than just some villain. Don't group me with pig head Xigbar and heartless Vexen. Don't demote me to some henchman hell bent on world destruction. I'm more than that. And obviously this man, this one eyed man whose friggin' half blind, doesn't _see_ it.

_But really Axel, how well do you know Meg?_

Roxas, not now man. Really, not now.

_You don't, Axel. You don't. Auron's right. You don't know her at all._

Back off. Since when were _you_ the guru on relationships?

_You think I wanted to leave Namine?!!_

Dude, we just _got_ Namine.

_No. You just _discovered_ Namine. Xemnas always _had_ her._

Bloody Hell. I said NOT NOW.

I can not deal with this NOW.

_Yeah. That's what you said back then, too._

I looked vehemently at Auron.

"Screw you," I finally exhaled, at a total loss of what else to say.

"Intelligent suitor, as always," Auron mocked condescendingly, voice dripping with satire and deride.

He then whirled around again, his coat swishing over me in the process, and continued onwards into the caverns.

We made the rest of the journey in silence.

I couldn't stop seething and Auron couldn't stop being himself. I was trying desperately to rack my mind for remnants of Roxas, trying to find his voice inside of me like I had unintentionally done before, but I kept coming up blank. Everything was empty and everything was vacant. I could hear absolutely nothing, and it ate away with the most unforgiving resentment. I had him. For three seconds I had him back, however inexplicable that may be. I had him and I lost him. It wasn't just me conversing with myself anymore. It was _him_. It was bloody _him_.

And now he's gone.

Damn.

"Oh, and what do we have here?"

So back on the other plane of reality I sometimes visit, I found myself situated in a vast chamber of stone and cobwebs, as dreary and disgusting looking as all its predecessors. I unintentionally shivered. Burning Brains was seated before me, in some abysmal excuse for a throne I suppose was supposed to strike fear in my non existing heart but failed miserably. I had mindlessly followed Auron all the way here, and now it was confrontation time with the Almighty. I had to fight Auron for some reason or another, and now it embarrasses me greatly to say it was simply for blood lust. If only I could keep my cravings in check. How primeval and animalistic can I be? I'm no better than Xigbar, really. This is demoting.

"He wishes to challenge me," Auron coughed out, each word sounding like it was being torn from his throat against his will. Had I been in fairer spirits, I would have suggested another swig of Saki to remedy that but I kept silent. Things go better that way.

"What? For Meg?"

I snapped to attention.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Hades leaned back in his throne and scratched his rather elongated chin with even more elongated fingers. "Ooh, now this is cute. Was he not aware of her contract?"

"Wait, what contract?"

"Megara's; my sweet, sweet little arsonist."

I found Hade's cloying saccharine sickening this time around.

"You weren't so naïve as to think you could just _take_ her," Auron growled, veering at me with his good eye.

"I thought..." Gracious, what _did_ I think? "I thought she could just go where she pleased."

"Yes, and she hangs out in the Underworld because the food is good," Hades mocked, laughing at his own joke, even though nobody else was.

"You mean to tell me you're holding her here against her will?" I snarled, already vamped up and ready to go given last hour's proceedings, and this only furthering my urgency to kill things.

"Don't even try," Auron expelled, seeing my chakrams materialize at my sides. "You can't kill a god."

"Ha. And you can't kill Yunalesca either, ain't that right Auron my boy?"

Auron simmered in the wake of the private joke.

Regardless of Auron's warnings, I hurled a chakram at Hades' head. It seemed to swish through him like blue vapor, and homed back in on my right hand. There wasn't so much as an incision left on the man's complexion.

"I wouldn't try that," Hades retorted with deadly vengeance, and in response he chucked a flame at me, which I non chalantly caught in my left hand.

We could go on like this forever.

"Okay, enough with this mindless chit chat," Hades eventually proclaimed, making over exaggerated hand gestures in front of him, momentarily going from seething to chipper; red to blue. "You came here to fight Auron, not me. And you can't really fight me even if you want to because—and why is that?" Hades feigned a pause, searching for an answer. "Oh, that's right. I'm _invincible_."

This man liked to perform verbal waltzes around the topic at hand.

"So, anyways. The tournament. Axel versus Auron versus Axel because Auron doesn't really have a choice. You lose, your soul belongs to me. And not your heart, I mean your soul. That thing you probably think you don't have. Yeah. That's mine."

When did he figure out I didn't have a heart? Maybe the undead pyrotechnics gave it away. And if he knows I don't have a heart he knows I'm dead. So he knows I'd be here for eternity. Lovely.

"You win, Megara and you can run off into the sunset and have babies. And I won't hunt them down and pop their little thumb sucking heads off. Which I think is a benevolent gesture on my part, don'tchya agree?"

"...of course..."

"Oh. And Auron, same rules apply for you, too. If I suspect you are not fighting to your full potential, I cut Vinida's life cord. Got that?"

"...who's Vinida?"

"Wakka and Lulu's baby," Auron explained, like I should have known that and needed no further explanation as to who, exactly, Wakka and Lulu actually were.

"Soo-oo no playing fair just so your precious little Meg cakes can leave, kay?"

Auron growled. Typical.

"You can't hold people against their will," I grumbled, still white knuckling my chakrams that were, for the first time, completely rendered useless.

"Um, news flash kiddo. I'm a god. I can do whatever I want."

A spider fell from his left nostril and he sniffed it back up.

"Oh, and by the way. I wouldn't crap where I eat, if I were you. I don't think Namine would advocate you're much different."

I startled at the abrupt turn around.

"I wasn't involved in that."

"Of course you weren't. Now, when do we fight?"

I turned to look at Auron who calmly looked back at me.

It was then that a very startling realization occurred to me, amidst the boiling anger and simmering hatred I currently housed for both participants in this battle. I momentarily wondered, if by chance I _did_ lose to this Auron fellow, and therefore had my non existing soul surrendered to Hades for all time, if anyone from my family of the undead would actually be troubled enough to come and save me. Like, would Xemnas even bother? Would he deem me a necessary asset to his plot of world domination, enough to risk his other brain dead henchmen to come and rescue my sorry butt? Would Larxene—in a bout of untypical benvolency—come to my aid and release me from the Underworld, even if it meant putting her own hypothetical, faux soul on the line?

Would she take care of Squirt?

...was fighting for Meg's freedom worth the risk of Squirt growing up without a decent father figure? Could I really trust the maternal instincts of a sadistic blonde who had a personal torture chamber in her airship? And where do you draw the line of who is worth more?

But Meg was about more than just a good roll in the hay. What Hades was doing here was just flat out _wrong_. And, well, god or not, they should be made to answer to _somebody_.

Though, admittedly, I had no idea about the whole fiasco with Namine.

That was best kept to myself until a later date. Or until Roxas decided to mind rape me again with his voice. Stupid little booger. He was never reliable, even when he was sane. 'Um, excuse me, I prefer spontaneous,' he would always say.

"Well, I'm ready to kick his ass if you are," I offered, testosterone pumping loud enough to be heard in my ears. Then again, that was probably just a substitute for my non existent heartbeat now that I think about it.

Auron made another distasteful noise, and with all the flourish of the resident high school drama whore, he whirled around and began, once again, down the dark caverns to resume his residency at the arena.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Owwwwie! Axel, that _hurt_!"

"Well, don't get it my way, Booger."

"I am not a booger!"

I brought down my wooden plank—no, really, I mean an actual wooden plank, no innuendo here, folks—on top of Roxas' hallow head as he laid there sprawled out on the lush ground of the castle's botanical gardens. Marluxia forbid anyone from ever stepping foot inside his precious forest, so of course, Roxas suggested we practice there just for the heck of it. Never mind we could have practiced anywhere, or teleported somewhere where our second lives wouldn't be at stake. He wanted to fence amid the botanicals and I really wasn't up to arguing.

We weren't all that close yet, and I found his audaciousness refreshing. The only time I had ever conversed with someone so allergic to rules was Larxene. Even Xigbar was humbled by the orders of his superiors.

"Like hell you aren't," I teased, digging my foot into his side. He squirmed around accordingly.

"You're gonna give me grass stains you jerk!"

"...grass stains? Roxas, please. You sound like a girl. Come to think of it, you fight like one too."

"Do not," he muttered stubbornly, leaping up and brushing himself off. "At the very least I fight like a transvestite."

Pause.

"Roxas..._what_?"

"Ya know, a guy that—"

"Yes, yes, Roxas, I _know_ what a transvestite is," I clarified, raising my hands in front of me to ward his explanation off. "I just don't see how you think that's better than being called a girl."

"Technically a transvestite is still a guy, right? He just dresses like a girl."

I stood there, the wooden practice sword dangling lifelessly at my side. This was the first time I ever caught wind of the fact Roxas was clinically insane.

"So, then, by that regard, I'm still a guy."

"..."

"Oh, come on, you can't tell me these trench coats don't look like friggin' dresses!"

"Roxas, man, I really have no words right now."

He let out a pent up sigh. "Nobody ever does."

He then took a swing at my head. No, not my abdomen, not my knees. My head.

"You spastic freak!" I hollered. "You can't just take a swing at someone's skull like that!"

"...says who?" Roxas questioned, face the epitome of five year old innocence. The kid nearly decapitated me and now he looked as contrite as a toddler who just broke his mother's five hundred year old china vase.

"Says...says...I dunno! You just don't do that!"

My partner's nose scrunched up like a slinky.

"There's rules to fighting?"

I paused.

"Well...yeah...I guess..."

"Um, why?"

I had to think on that one. Why _are_ there rules to war?

"That's stupid," the runt continued to chide, taking another non chalant whack at my chest. I parried with my wooden sword, dodging his quick succession of swings that barely grazed my skin. "I mean, who really listens to the rules anyway?" He continued to pound away at my countenance like nothing was wrong. Words just kept spilling out of his mouth and he just kept hacking away at my frame. "I say you do what you have to in order to win. Simple as that." I was now breaking out in a thin film of sweat. I was not accustomed to fighting with a sword. I usually utilized my twin chakrams. The wooden planks were for this new kid's benefit. Little did I know, he didn't need much slack as far as handicaps were concerned. That runt could have taken down Xemnas blindfolded if he had half the mind too.

"Fine," I dismissed through clenched teeth. I summoned my weapons of choice and pinned Roxas' lanky little neck in between the blades which I effortlessly wedged into the trunk of a nearby tree. "Rules be damned."

"Heyyyy," my rival whined. "You can't _do_ that!"

"Says who?"

Roxas continued to squirm and fidget underneath the blades of my pinwheels. He looked like a writhing little worm in the beak of a bird, trying to wiggle its way out of an untimely demise. It was amusing.

"And now," I teased, summoning a small flame in the palm of my outstretched hand. "For the grand finale."

Of course I wasn't really going to burn the little bugger. I had no intentions to. But I suppose he didn't know that. He just eyed the fire with those bulging blue crystals he tries to pass off for eyes, one appropriately twitching in response.

And then, all of the sudden, out of nowhere, he was gripping two keyblades and had chucked my chakrams half way across the garden.

In about three point five seconds, I was the lone recipient of two blades piercing through my coat and having me pinned about ten feet high in an adjacent tree, which Roxas somehow monkey climbed with me in tow and managed to nail to the trunk.

He was left looking up at me, smirk adorning his features, which were ever changing, and said merrily, "Tee hee. I win."

It was the first time I realized Roxas was stronger than me.

He was stronger than any of us, really.

This little, pale, scrawny teenager could officially kick our butts to another galaxy if persuaded to.

He was a nuclear missile disguised as a tug boat.

It was then I figured we'd better become friends, because this was one kid I didn't want to piss off.

That and I found his insanity amusing, his disregard for rules charming, and his mentality refreshing. And previously I found his loyalty unmatchable but that characteristic got shipped straight to hell in a wonderfully ornate hand basket.

"Take a tip from the new kid and don't play by the rules."

And yes. _He_ had to tell _me_ that.

I considered myself brainwashed. You should too. That was the only reason I used to be so submissive. Then I started on a daily dose of Larxene and Roxas and things changed.

Damn Booger.

I miss those days.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Auron looked at though he had swallowed his own weight in urine. What little of his face I could see was contorted in disgust rivaling that of one made while constipated. Not that I look in the mirror while suffering from such ailments to analyze my visage, but I have a pretty decent imagination and it can conjure up things accordingly.

I stood across from the cloak swamped man, he standing ready with his samurai sword and me with my chakrams, and tried desperately to keep my body temperature down so as not to spontaneously combust at the thought of Hades holding dominion over an unwilling Meg. Turning into a human inferno would not help me win the battle. But it would make for some really flashy pyrotechnics.

"Okay boys," Hades drawled from his seat in the far off bleachers. Panic and Pain were at his feet, the checkers game abandoned at the promise of blood shed, and Megara sat rigidly at his side, eyes sending me eighteen million messages at once, one of them probably being 'sorry I didn't tell you.'

Well, it's not like she's using me. I would have done this willingly.

_Yeah, but she didn't know that._

I swear to all that is holy Roxas, your timing officially sucks.

But I didn't mean that. I would talk to him when ever, where ever. And that pea brain _knew_ that. So I don't see why he insisted on being so inconsistent all the time.

He was gone before I could repent of my mental outburst. Typical.

"Pray. Now." Auron petitioned from across the circular plane.

I cocked my head in confusion.

"To what?"

Apparently my previously posed inquisition, while very deep and very amusing at the same time, did nothing for my fellow grave mate, for he seemed intent on delivering my hindquarters to me on a silver platter.

And if this fight were taking place at Beast's Castle that platter would be singing.

At any rate.

Now, not to self promote, but I like to think I'm a pretty decent fighter, especially when provoked, which I most certainly was now. Roxas beat me a couple—okay, all—of the times but that's only because he was the frickin keyblade-master-chosen-one and all I had going for me was some war paint and a gross infatuation with fire.

But when Auron leapt at me—the man practically _flew_—I knew I was doomed. I always got that 'don't mess with me' vibe from him, but my self image wouldn't let me admit it. And now it was too late to take it all back. Not only could Auron probably have Fed Ex-ed my corpse into the next millennium on one of his bad days, I had significantly pissed the guy off beforehand. Oh, _and_ he was intoxicated. God only knows on how much. One would think being inebriated on Saki would slow his reaction time, but he seemed all the more fired up and ready to go. That thing was like his Special Juice. I think he had it laced with amphetamines.

So he hacked and I reflected. I can't get any more blunt than that.

And here I was, thinking I would waltz in there and save the day. If Roxas were still flanking my side, I would have. Well, _we_ would have. But I would have gotten the girl.

I had gross delusions of grandeur that this would be an easy victory and Hades would be forced to eat his own turd at my mercy. Perhaps Larxene would be hiding off in the shadows to witness my triumph as well. (Though, speaking of which, I hadn't heard any strange little feminine sounds going bump in the night. I wonder where she was.)

Then Auron pulled out the magic. Thunderaga this Wateraga that. I dunno. I was never any good at magic besides my given element. I tried to counter attack, especially when he got to Blizzaraga, but found I was not agile enough. I couldn't even get my arm up to cast a measly spit fire. This man was owning me. How demoting.

I swear, he was about three seconds away from disemboweling me and playing jump rope with my spinal cord when I heard the all too familiar sounds of a particular comrade floating in from behind me.

"Oooooh, Axel, you're gonna have boo boos tomorrow!"

Bloody hell.

"D...Demyx?" I grunted from underneath the deadly sheen of Auron's weapon.

I was unable to turn around and get a good look at him.

"Hi! I just finished up in Phil's tournament."

Oh. Gods. Why does he think that I care?

"I won."

At this, I think my brain broke. No, really. It was audible.

After inadvertently gagging on a bit of myself, I stumbled to my knees mid parry and found Auron bringing the hilt of his sword down hard on my right shoulder.

"You...won?!"

"Yeah. This bathrobe armor you gave me is really something!"

I was not capable of making eye contact at the moment, which was just fine with me because I didn't need the image of Demyx in Saix's pink fluffy bathrobe temporarily blinding me while I was trying to fight.

Auron brought his knee up hard into my gut. I could have sworn I heard ribs crack.

"Well, I'll leave you to your fighting. I just came down here to use the bathroom. Did you ever find it?"

He expected me to answer him. Like, with directions. After taking a hit to the gut.

"Squat and piddle wherever you please," I choked out. "The whole place reeks like an outhouse."

I imagined Demyx made one of his infamous queer faces at this, one that said 'Oh. My. Gosh. You totally did not just, like, suggest I do that.' Then I heard his voice of affirmation.

"Um. Okay. Ew?"

I dodged another hit to my opposite shoulder.

"I need my privacy, so if you don't mind, I'm going to go...literally...over by the stairs."

"Demyx," I breathed, trying to grope the air for breath. "_I_. _Don't_. _Care_."

"Pifft. Fine. Be that way. See if I care." A dramatic sigh. "Okay, well, if you need me, you know where I'll be." And he left.

What was _that_ all about?

Didn't matter. Auron was now currently taking a shot at my skull.

I threw myself on the ground to avoid impending brain trauma, and was slightly disconcerted that I could now see up Auron's lame excuse for a man dress. I crawled around on the pavement a little longer, making a complete fool out of myself in front of Megara, for this particular member of the undead was literally bringing me to my knees (and no proposing was involved) when I once again found myself the lone recipient of the poignant echoes of Roxas as they permeated my cranium.

_Axel. You're disappointing me._

_Now_ what?

Be nice, Axel. Be nice. But how could he expect me to be nice when I was fighting for my non-life, or soul, or whatever. Meg was in the balance here. Meg.

Lemme put it to you in a way you can understand, Roxas. Chicks. Chicks are watching.

_It would probably serve you better if they weren't._

Well, apparently I was being graced with emo Roxas at the moment, post melodramatic phase.

Are you here to mentally molest me or do you have something important to say?

(Yes. Our tension was highly evident now. This was where we left off. This voltage. This velocity. This simmering, scaling anger.)

_What did I tell you in the gardens?  
_

I raked my mind for a plausible recollection. So far, I got nothing. And I questioned him about it accordingly, but it was too late, he was already gone.

What the hell, man?

Being cryptic and emo, as usual.

Nice to know amnesia hasn't changed you. Though apparently death did.

The gardens. Axel, think about the gardens. What did Roxas tell you?

His mouth was always running, like diarrhea. How could he expect me to remember it all? He told me countless things in those gardens, most having to do with Marluxia's impending sexuality. 'But then again,' he'd muse out loud. 'Just because a man wears pink and has a gross infatuation with flowers doesn't automatically make him a flamingly homosexual gay lord, right?'

No. I don't think that was the piece of advice he wanted me to remember.

'Besides Axel, aren't flames _your_ thing?'

It's a wonder I never fried him before he started intentionally pissing me off.

"Submit!" Auron growled for good measure, bringing me back to reality. Or whatever form of it I was currently in. This man had a thing with sporadically shouting out one word warnings and battle cries. I momentarily wondered if he had Turrets.

His most recent delivery to my gut sent my spiraling out of control into a far off wall, made completely out of comfortable stone and rock, and I think I felt my spine realign as each vertebrae individually cracked into its new position.

I think my spleen just took up temporary residency next to my pancreas.

_Take a tip from the New Kid and don't play by the rules._

It would help if there were rules to break, kiddo.

Then again, I suppose I could always _make_ them.

Heh.

"Did I ever tell you," I breathed out heavy, voice laden with gasps and pants, "That I'm a proud member of the MADD community?"

This threw Auron off guard. He was so surprised by my random exclamation, he stood there dumbfounded for at least a nanosecond.

Ha. No one word replies for _that_.

"I'm sorry," he feigned. "But what?"

"MADD," I repeated, trying to catch my breath that was intent on running away from me in great leaps and bounds. I steadied my tremulous frame against the surface of the rocks. "Mothers Against Drunk..." and then I paused. Drunk what? I knew Roxas was always preaching alcoholic abstinence while on OURS, for he was like a DARE spokesperson incarnate, especially when it came to seat belts and aerial acrobatics, and practically founded the second Prohibition while taken up temporary residency in Castle Oblivion, but Auron wasn't exactly...driving. In fact, Auron wasn't doing much of anything. Except standing there slack jawed and gaping at me.

It's one thing to get beaten physically. But mentally, too? Hell, my wits are all I have. I can't lose both, much less in one shot. _Much_ less to someone inebriated, at that.

"Mothers Against Drunk _Dying_," I articulated headily.

Again. Curse words in Japanese.

"Well, you're _dead_, aren't you?"

Auron nodded affirmatively, still shell shocked, I presume.

"So...you shouldn't drink..." I finished lamely.

Yeah. Go ahead. Look at me funny now. I know where I'm going with this.

"What _is_ he getting at?" I heard Hades mutter to Pain or Panic. Or Meg.

"And, well, you know why you shouldn't drink?"

Auron sneered. I'll take that as an invitation to elaborate.

"Because I don't play by the rules."

Okay. Science lesson, folks. I like fire. Fire makes things go boom. Especially flammable things. Auron likes alcohol. Alcohol is flammable. Therefore alcohol goes boom.

And last time I checked, there was no written rule about exploding your opponent's beverage.

So take notes, kids. Don't drink and die and you won't get fried.

Hm. Catchy.

And so off I went. Shot flames out of my fingertips, the sparks dancing across the air that was practically throbbing with tension, and then finding themselves lodged within Auron's Saki casket/bottle/cache/whatever as it slowly began to smolder and burn.

Alarmed, he dropped the bottle. It therefore exploded.

I smirked accordingly as the smoke and fumes danced around the room, still too thick to see through yet substantial enough for some much needed dramatic effect. I was expecting to be greeted with a charred version of everyone's favorite emo-tastic samurai, glasses proverbially broken and shattered, hanging limply from one ear, as he glared at me with his good eye and taught me some more foreign words in eastern languages.

But of course, I got no such thing.

Auron was standing there alright, a little worse for wear, but still standing, only he wasn't _glaring_ so much as he was _seething_, his eye wasn't _stabbing_ so much as it was _impaling_, and I honestly thought that if looks could kill I would have keeled over than and there and been digging six feet under pushing up daisies or rat corpses or whatever else Hades kept down here in the fertilizer.

And so, while I am pretty sure I succeeded in depleting the majority of his HP, there's this thing called OverDrive on his planet I was unfamiliar with and I think I had inadvertently just triggered it.

I cringed in the wake of the impending destruction.

"Ooh, that color's not healthy!" I heard an all too familiar voice call. One that was _not_ located inside my head that only I could hear (read : Roxas.)

Auron flicked a glare over his shoulder.

There stood Demyx, refreshed and replenished in ways I didn't want to know about, with his hands placed calmly in the pocket's of Saix's pink fluffy bathroom ripped straight from the realm of Candy Land meets Victoria's Secret.

He then performed a small eye twitch, something I'm not used to seeing on Demyx, and craned his neck back in confusion.

"Hey man, you weren't actually going to hurt him, were you?"

I paused.

He was staring directly at Auron.

Was he...worried? About...me?

"Demyx," I reminded him hastily, sensing the danger in the air. "I treat you like crap. Don't stick up for me."

Because it will probably get you killed. Again.

"I was going to do what I had to," Auron replied, devoid of emotion, except for maybe a tinge of vindication. "But I can't say I wouldn't enjoy it."

Then Demyx attempted a snarl.

"Oh no you _didn't_!"

Oh. Gods.

"Demyx, don't get involved," I called out, half way between annoyance and gratitude. "You're just gonna get hurt—"

"Nobody messes with my friends!"

Friends?

He then began to charge. Head first. Like a ram. Brilliant.

"Don't worry Axel!" he called out, picking up speed. "I'm wearing your special armor!"

Well. I had never felt more like a dick than I did right then. There was Demyx, putting his second life on the line all for my sake, and thinking he was safe because I had tricked him into wearing a ridiculously feminine undergarment so he could go get his butt whipped upstairs in a tournament I had no intentions of him actually winning.

I'm going to hell. Eventually.

"Wait!" Megara cried out, standing up in her seat. Hades immediately extracted a long, boney hand deprived of calcium and other natural supplements to try and tame her. But Meg was never one to be tamed. "Axel has to be the one—"

And she was cut off by a ground shattering water spell Demyx called forth from the realm of oblivion.

It shook the air and it shook the earth and it shook my bones. Either Demyx was really hyped up or he didn't fully relieve himself, because I had never seen so much water materialize in such a short span of time, even while in Atlantica.

I then was graced with the hellish hybrid pairing of Ariel and Demyx and momentarily wondered if that companionship was plausible. It was either bloody brilliant or the prelude to the apocalypse. I'd find out later.

Auron was thrown off guard, and I like to pretend it was because of my alcoholic pyrotechnics but in reality I think it was because someone donning pink fuzz had just managed to summon a tsunami out of his butt.

The samurai, now dripping and sputtering and gasping, lay sprawled on the floor in the aftermath of the tidal wave, sword strewn helplessly to the side, as he tried unsuccessfully to stand up and managed to fall rather unpoetically on his butt.

I then got another inexplicable urge to pair up my past comrades, this time being the aforementioned Auron and Fa Mulan. One was dead and the other was bisexual. It could get interesting.

It was then Auron slumped over, defeated.

"Take _that_!" Demyx chided, hopping up and down like a hispanic jumping bean. "I win! I win! I win!" The chanting was relentless, and I was once again reminded why we like to make fun of him so.

I couldn't really hold back my smile of jubilation either.

Technically, I guess I should have been demoted, but someone had just referred to me as _friend_. Oh; _and_ I got the girl.

I think.

Speaking of which, in the words of Jack Sparrow: "Where is the said lassy?"

"Congrats," Hades leered, Megara now tied up in an odd contortion of smoky tendrils that wrapped themselves around her torso and mouth. "Demyx, is it? You're the winner."

"Yeah, yeah I know," he panted breathlessly. "Go me! Right?"

The leering continued. I was becoming uneasy.

"Demyx, I don't think this is a good thing."

I was exceedingly unnerved about seeing Meg bound (even though she claimed handcuffs weren't on her kinky list) but I chose not to give the god of the underworld the satisfaction of seeing my emotions play out on my face. Besides, I'm not supposed to have any anyway.

"Wait, what? I'm confused."

"The deal was for Axel to defeat Auron!" Pain pipped in, pudgy legs swaying to and fro. "Not _you_."

"Aw hell," I breathed, rubbing my temples in dismay. "Demyx, you screwed it up _again_."

"Um, sorry?" he suggested. "I defeated the bad guy, though. So that's good, right?"

"No you dip stick,_ he's_ the bad guy!"

I jabbed a finger at a maliciously snarling Hades.

"Really?" Demyx questioned. "Wait. Then who did I just kill?"

"He's already dead," I muttered. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh. Okay. If you say so. So when do you get your chick?"

Bloody. Friggin'. Hell.

"I don't," I dead panned. "Apparently you don't either."

"Wasn't the deal," Hades offered helpfully.

Auron was beginning to sputter incoherent things in Japanese from behind me. He gurgled, reached for his Saki, took a habitual slug even though nothing was there, and passed out again. Typical.

_Don't play by the rules._

"Ya know what?" I finally exploded. Demyx jumped next to me. Apparently my proclamation had startled him. "This is stupid. We're leaving." I paused. "With her."

"...can we do that?" Demyx asked.

"I don't care."

And that was that. I marched right up to Hades throne of doom or whatever stupid name he calls it and latched onto Meg's anorexic little wrist. I could feel the tendons poking through her skin, and I wondered what she had been eating all these years. No wonder she was so skinny.

Hades predictably turned a rather vibrant hue of crimson.

Megara stumbled along behind me for about three seconds before I finally decided it would be better if I just lopped her over my shoulder—and now I _know_ Larxene wasn't present because she would never allow a fellow female to be carried in such a helpless manner without depriving me of my testicles—and began to do what all good heroes do when faced with the option of running or fighting.

Running. Of course.

But it was methodical running. So I get bonus points for eccentricity, right?

Hades sputtered and spit and foamed and then the fire came.

Demyx, wide eyed and alert, and probably pumping with lethal amounts of adrenaline, promptly stood in between me and the undead god, more courageous than I had ever seen him be, and let out a very masculine, '_Ieeeeee_! Run! Run away!' before turning around and high tailing it out of the coliseum ahead of me.

You have _gotta_ be crapping me.

"Just so you know," I called out breathlessly, hot on his tail, "that totally negates every thing you just did for me."

"I don't like fire!" he whined, picking up his bathrobe at the waist so as to run faster.

"And I don't like you," I snarled. "We can't die, what the hell are you afraid of?"

"Boo boos!" he wailed.

I figured it best I _not_ comment at that particular moment.

Hades was now...floating...behind us on some sort of ethereal like substance, black and icky and gooey and all kinds of fun grossness. We dodged more hurtling fire balls and spit flames that I would have ricocheted had I not had a damsel in distress over my boney shoulder.

Eventually we made it to the stairs were Demyx took the time to actually step over his home made puddle (and point it out, not less. We're running for our lives and the kid takes the time to indicate where he piddled. Mercy.) and tore up the stairs two at a time, quite a feat given the fact we were both in outfits not made for dexterity and I had extra baggage in my arms.

Back into the realm of daylight, we both dove simultaneously for The Darkness, but not before Hades ignited an ornate painted side emblem dangerously close to the gas tank.

Curse Saix and his artistic urges. Who puts highly flammable paint next to the bloody gas tank? I mean, really.

Are we _sure_ this guy was a flippin' scientist?

"Wait, Demyx, what are you doing?" I cried as my comrade catapulted in after me. "You have your _own_ ship!"

"I do?" he asked. "Oh, I do!"

I don't have time for this.

I threw Meg, however unfairly, into the shot gun seat and immediately dove for the leather clad cockpit where I could lift The Darkness into orbit before we exploded in a vast display of octane gas.

Or Demyx could just decide now would be a wonderfully magnificent time to use his death given powers and douse the stuff out.

Which he did. But only after Megara screamed bloody murder at him once the smoky ties evaporated now that she was out of the clutches of Hades and was able to utilize her vocal chords.

I like her more with each passing minute.

"Daddy!" I heard a voice call out from the bathroom spa. "What's going on?"

"Nothing Squirtie," came my frazzled reply. "Daddy's is just illegally kidnapping somebody."

"Oh...okay."

He then resumed playing with his bubbles or bath salts or Polly Pockets or whatever else Saix had hidden in there.

I looked to my left to see Demyx concentrating on extinguishing the now smoldering paint encircling the gas tank. It worked. He got it out. He also managed to stow away on my (borrowed) ship. I would have opened the emergency hatch and ejected him, but he had just saved our lives, well, those of us who weren't already dead, so I decided I'd better let him tag along—at least until we get back to Castle Oblivion and I could prove my heterosexuality (and hopefully get Meg inducted into the Organization; she had experience with dead people right?)

We flew off into the vast expanse of the galaxy without so much as a look over our shoulders (though Demyx sniffed a little as he contemplated the fate of his Heart Throb.)

"Demyx, we'll just send Lexaeus down here. He'll get the ship back. Trust me."

"...but Lexaeus forgets to put the seat down!" he whined.

There was no helping this kid.

I moved on.

After about fifteen minutes of blasting Saix's infamous air conditioner to try and tame my frazzled nerves, I looked over to see how Meg was holding up, to find her pale faced and wide eyed, clutching her sides like she was in the midst of repressing vomit.

"You don't get air sick, do you?" I teased, faultily assuming she was wound up from our near (second) death experience.

She just looked at me.

"Bathroom is down the hall and to the left," I directed quickly. "It's gold and smells like roses. Oh, and my kid is a sea horse."

She just nodded and complied.

This left me to turn to a now sound asleep Demyx, curled up in the fetal position in one of the back guest seats (also leather bound) characteristically sucking his thumb and snoring.

I inwardly groaned and flopped back, exhausted, oh so terribly terribly exhausted, into the driver's seat, plopping my feet haphazardly on the dashboard and craning my neck back to stare absent mindedly at the ceiling.

So lemme get this straight. I now had a stolen Greek Goddess puking up her organs in my undead henchmen's golden bathroom, my illigetimate sea horse son trying not to asphyxiate in the juccuzi tub, a thumb sucking faerie sleeping peacefully next to me while curled into himself, and an unannounced visit from a certain sadistic blonde bound to stop by any time now.

Yeah. I'd say I was doing good.

I rubbed my temples and tried to plot the corrdinates to The World That Never Was without the aid of a map. It's a man thing. Also a Roxas thing. He never asked for directions. It rubbed off on me.

Speaking of which, what was _that_ all about?

I guess asking Xemnas about it was inevidable. I could not successfully take a shower until I knew hearing Roxas' voice in my head wouldn't permeat my mind at the most inopportune moments. And so far, he had come pretty close.

It was then I spotted a sticky note—no, really, a bloody sticky note—tacked on to the side of Saix's manual joy stick (please insert a snicker here, I'm too tired to perform the actual action) that read in Xemnas' unmistakable girly, loopy hand writing: MEET ME IN HALLOWEEN TOWN.

Wait. What?

Hasn't this guy ever heard of teleportation? Oh; that's right. He doesn't know where I am. And didn't Xigbar say something about him wanting to see me?

Fan-orgasmic-tastic.

This is all I needed. As if my life situation right now wasn't complicated enough already.

As if irony was slapping me in the face, I heard the teleport whir open behind me.

"Okay. So, like, I don't do the shopping thing," came the only feminine voice of the Organization (that was awake at the current moment, anyway. Demyx had his thumb in his mouth.) "But I just think Splat needs some toys or something, right? I mean, he's like a kid and stuff. So I robbed some shops at Traverse Town. I didn't kill anybody, so don't worry. I did threaten too, though. It was refreshing. Anyway. Where is the little booger?"

I listlessly turned around in my seat to face a rather emphatic Larxene, hair fingers spiking with electric energy and eyes dancing with hidden moon beams.

She looked radiant.

She looked happy.

I paused, taking this odd spectacle in, and then watched as her brow furrowed slightly at my countenance.

"Why do you look like I just killed your dog?"

"I'm hearing voices," I stated honestly. "Oh, and I just kidnapped someone."

"Cool. Can I torture them?"

"No."

"Splat's gotta learn somewhere."

"Squirt," I corrected. "His name is Squirt."

"Yeah. Well, whatever," Larxene began, slightly abashed, something she doesn't show often. "I'll get it right eventually."

...aw.

"And oh my gosh, are you actually sweating?"

I paused.

"Do I reek that bad?"

"No, but your make up is running, Man Whore."

I checked in the rear view mirror. Aw hell. It was.

"No, no, I'm not sweating," I lied. "I was crying. Crying because I missed you so much."

I was served a glare in response. But I think she was smiling underneath it.

It was then that I heard Meg heave another gut hurlting wretch from the bathroom.

"What was _that_?" Larxene questioned, pixie nose scrunching up in disdain. "Is Splat sick? I can rob a convenience store and get him some Tylenol."

"I don't think sea horses take Tylenol," I mused out loud.

"Hm," Larxene thought to herself, taking the matter to heart (or not) as her arms drooped slightly with the effort. "But honestly Axel, what is that?"

I smirked. Uncontrollably.

I needed to present this to her right.

"Um. Well, you remember how this whole thing started?"

"Yeah," Larxene began guardedly. "You're gay."

I could almost _feel_ her walls go up. It was unsettling.

"Well apparently I'm not."

At this, I received absolutely no change in facial features from Larxene.

She just silently walked down the hall, poked her head into the bathroom, and beheld Megara, keeled over Saix's toilet, upchucking her latest meal as she clawed at her reedy, semi-starved sides.

I was expecting a wry comment of some sort.

'Well Axel, looks like you got yourself a real award winner there, pal.'

Or some tesogerone infused sex joke.

'So how much does she charge?'

But all I got was: "She's beautiful."

I think I stopped breathing for a minute.

"Larxene, she's chucking her organs up."

My static dead pan was lost on her as our conversation flat lined.

She lifelessly dropped the toys at the foot of the door, closing it gently behind her.

"This isn't what you wanted?" I teased, wanting to revel in this moment, rub it in her face, torment her and torture her and watch her squirm. "Oh, wait, of course not," I forged on, oblivious as usual to the inner workings of the female mind. "Then you couldn't make fun of me anymore. I see how it is."

Still, nothing. Just...blankness. Placidness. Emptiness.

She looked numb.

Without another word, she summoned up a portal.

"Xemnas wants you in Halloween Town," Larxene said gently, so low in volume I scarcely heard her.

"Yeah," I muttered, awkwardness seeping in. "Why is that?"

"I dunno," she admitted. "Who does?"

"Apparently not us."

Larxene looked as though she was ready to open her mouth and say something, and then she spotted Demyx sleeping baby style on one of the guest seats towards the back of the cabin. Her face contorted, ever so slightly, into one of slight amusement, riddled with an overwhelming sadness I couldn't quite place. Not yet, anyway.

"He, um, stowed away," I explained, scratching the back of my neck.

"I can see that," she confirmed evenly, regardless of whatever was floating through her head at the current moment. For her to admit defeat, especially infront of me, well, now there's a fate worse than death. And I didn't expect it to happen anytime soon.

We stood there, each in our respective silences, staring blankly at a thumb sucking Demyx, as the portal fizzed and crackled behind us.

"Do you hate me?" Larxene asked abruptly.

I startled.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Me. Do you hate me?"

I stood there. And. Well. I stood there.

"You lost me."

"Do you hate me?" Larxene asked, more sharp and cutting this time, like razor blades were searing from her very words. Her eyes were pleading for an answer and I wasn't sure I could give her one.

"Larxene," I began, soft. Mitigated. "...I...I'm not capable of it."

Brilliant Axel. Brilliant. And you wonder why you were single for so long.

"Yeah. I figured you'd say something like that," she confessed, turning to go. "But that means..." she trailed off, words drifting on the air over the static and the noise and the humming engine. "That means you're not capable of loving me, either."

And with that, she was gone.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Author's Notes

AHAHAHAH! The chapter is finished! It is finally finished! Months in the making and it is now complete! W00T! And...and what's this? Fourty five reviews? Oh! Thank you! Thank you so much! I feel so loved! You people are amazing. Really, you are. You take so much time to tell me what you think. You have no idea how much it helps.

And now, I must address something I found rather humerous: this story is no where near over! Ha! I guess people were assuming that since Axel finally found a Disney girl the tale would be wrapping up, which it most definitely is _not_, I can assure you, and he still has numerous more planets to venture to and numerous more girls to hit on! And, well, the plot must thicken! (As if that were not clearly evident given the fact I spontaneously decided to stick Roxas in his head...quite literally.)

And...do I smell some Larxel jealousy? Do I?

Hee hee.

Yeah, I'm rather giddy at the prospect of wrapping this fourty something page chapter up. I've been itching for an update myself.

And so next is Halloween Town. Obviously.

And did I really stick Meg, Squirt, Demyx, Axel, and Larxene in the same ship?

I mean...is that legal? (And it's Saix's ship, no less.)

So much for following cliché story lines. Ha.

Also, I couldn't resist putting in the innuendo tha perhaps Demyx is the stronger of the two. _He_ beats Auron, not Axel. Ha ha. Why must Demyx always be portrayed as a wimp? (Well, not that my rendition of him helps any, I left the kid sucking his thumb, after all.) But I wanted to show case Demyx as perhaps a decent, if not better fighter, than Axel (though probably not Roxas) and see how that played out. It was my feeble apology to his creators for abusing their pixelized child so. Also, I still do plan on writing a complimentary Demyx piece one of these days to repent of my sins for making fun of him for so long. But it's just so...easy. I can't help it.

Oh, and the Marluxia comment made in this chapter was taken from an KH icon I found on live journal some time back, though the creator's name escapes me at the moment and I can't seem to locate it again. If anyone knows who made that icon, lemme know, and I'll be glad to give credit where credit is due.

And I have but one thing to say concerning Roxas' inner monologue: zjkhskjdhfslkjhslkjdh. It came out much lamer than I intended it to be. A tad too melodramatic. But then again, that's what Roxas was like before leaving the Organization. He has the balls to go up to his best friend and mope, 'no one would miss me.' So, Roxas being a touch too theatrical really isn't that out of line for him.

Also; I've got, like, eight different subplots running through my head right now. I need to stop being so prolific.

Oh, side note! Next is Halloween Town (obviously.) But Vixen has a slight problem. I don't actually _own_ the movie Nightmare Before Christmas (blasphemy, I know) and have only seen it once, that once taking place about ten years ago. Does anyone know of a plot summary I can find, or some YouTube clips? I usually do character research before writing a new chapter, because I am just that big of a dork. However, I lack the necessary DVD to do said research. Hm. Conundrums.

And so onto the vast array of cookies that have gotten mildew given the obscene amounts of time that have passed since the last update. I hope nobody is allergic to...mildew.

**o-o-o COOKIES o-o-o**

(Gives RinRan a bucket of sugar wafers to go with their bucket of win.) HA! YOUR REVIEW! "...It's Axel-anorexic, smirking, crazy, psychotic, femme undertoned, possibly gay Axel!" Oh gosh, that was amazing. (With a capital A. Ha.) Your review made my day. And I am so glad you liked it!

(Hands teridragon some chocolate mints.) Aw! Thank you for utilizing the adjective awesome to describe my chicken scratch! It means a lot to me!

(Gives Rin a sugar cookie.) Thank you so much for your review, and I am greatful you are feeling better. I'm hanging in there, which, in reality, is all one can ever hope for. XD

(Gives MafiaQueen some fudge cookies laced with painkillers.) Anastasia! Oh, the fun I would have with writing Dimitri! I should break the Disney wall and stick them in a chapter anyway. Ha. The urge to write as Dimitri, everyone's favorite blundering scam artist, is too strong to ignore. But I guess I'll have to. I hope you start feeling better, because sickness sucks.

(Hands Goblin Queen Of The Opera some playbills and a couple sugar wafers.) A fav! Oh, I am honored! Thank you! And yes, three cheers for sadomasochistic tendancies. Ha ha. I should have him meet the 'Brothers.' That would be...wow. That would be just wow.

(Tosses panda-eyes some yummy yummy fudge cake.) I'm converting someone to Larxel! Hee hee. And you liked Larxie's laugh! W00T! Major LOLZ to the Akuroku comment. I rant about that in zeowynda's cookies, I believe. (My, that sentence sounded strange.) I'm so glad I have the ability to make you laugh! XD!

(Gives Queen Sparkle some luminescent Keebler cookies.) Yeah, I down play Demyx's IQ in this fiction just a little bit. Ha. I couldn't help myself. I'll write one with him having some semblance of intelligence one day. But as for now, Demyx running around in a pink fluffy bathrobe under the misconception that it is indeed armor is too funny to be ignored. I do love the kid, but I can't resist teasing him. But this is an Axel story, so I'm allowed. Aw, you've read it multiple times! You have no idea how honored I am that you do that! Thank you! I'm glad I can make you laugh!

(Hands DiZEnchanted some very enchanted SUGAR COOKIES with LOTS OF SPRINKLES.) Ooh, my first cookie request! And, ohmigosh, your list was the highlight of my week. Nah. Scratch that. Month. It helps me so much when people point out what they like, thank you for taking the time to do so. I appreciate it! And even more happily, you pointed out all the things I tried extra hard to make stand out, so that made me gaboodles of happy. Character development and flashbacks especially. I'm glad they're half as fun to read as they are to write.

(Dumps a truckload of chocolate chips on zeowynda's head.) Oh my dear, dear zeowynda. How your words make me warm and tingly inside. Almost like a Kodak moment for my organs. (Okay, that was officially weird. But you're my friend, so I'm allowed to be weird when writing this. Heh.) And the length of your review almost made me fall out of my chair. Such happiness for Vixen! And your list. I love lists. Let's see: yes, no AkuRoku or whatever it's called. I don't get where that came from. Where DID that come from? Anyone know? I don't. Obviously. And I also do not understand why an Axel fangirl would want to dream about a gay Axel. That always confused me. That and their age difference. That confused me too...like, why is borderline pedophilia attractive and all of the sudden unbelievably sexy? I don't have a problem with homosexuality, but Roxas is, like, a kid. Which I guess is the raw definition of yaoi but whatever. I don't want Axel with Roxas because I want Axel with _me_. Suffice it to say that. AND OMGSH I DON'T KNOW WHY ROXAS IS SO ANGSTY AND EMO ALL THE TIME. I had to find a way to portray that in my fiction somehow, but now that you mention all those other one liners from the game, it DOES make more sense. Sora's Nobody should be more...Soraish. Yes. Yes he should. HAHA: GOT IT MEMORIZED. I **HATE** that line. And I promised I'd put it in here, so now I have to. But regardless, I still think it's lame. And I want to smack Axel across the face every time he says it. Which is all the time. So, yeah. SQUEE DISNEY GIRLS. Yes, and they all pwn. That's the best part. Except for maybe Ariel, which I thank you for giving me your honest opinion concerning her lack of maturity. I did make her a tad too young. Okay okay. Way too young. But it was all for the sake of humor, right? Right? (Looks around nervously.) At any rate, yes, Disney characters are part of Kingdom Hearts. If they weren't, it would be Final Fantasy. (My logic astounds me.)

(Smacks Aurdox upside the head and then promptly hands her an ice pack and some strawberry cookies.) DON'T SAY YOU'RE A HORRIBLE PERSON! Because you're not! I am honored you read my story to begin with! (Hugs.) And you are so nice in your review! I am even more honored you deemed me worthy of one! (Smiles.) And LOLZ to the Demyx line! I couldn't resist. It just...popped out. Like a baby in the neonatal intensive care unit. Ooh, do I get points for eccentric similies? Do I? Ha ha. You're so loyal, reading my story on your Aunt's computer! It makes me warm and tingly inside! (And you even recommended it to your friends! Can an author ask for anything more? (Thinks.) No. No they can not.)

(Hands Jag Wired some scrumptious oatmeal cookies and season one of the TV show JAG. WOW! Vixen is so funny!) Aw! I got and oh em gee AND I am one of the three you regularly watch? EEP! I feel special! Why thank you! (Hugs.) (Then does a happy dance.) I'll spare you the verbal rendition of my happy dance, but I'm sure you can use your imagination. XD.

(Hands Haseo some delicious home baked muffins.) OMGSH THANK YOU FOR YOUR COMMENT! YOUR ARE OFFICIALLY MY NEW CAPS LOCK BUDDY! TEE HEE HEE!

(Gives EscapedSacrifice some crepe wrapped fruit.) I got a W00T! To this I can say: W00T! Ha, happiness ensues! I am glad you lubbers it!

(Tackles Crimson Crescent and hands her a bag of chocolate.) LOLZ: high school format romance fics! I agree, I have nothing against them, but I'm out of high school, and I would rather never go back. So I enjoy an out of school romance just as much as you. Hee hee. And YAY! You appreciate the twenty pages! (I take a while to upload, but I do a page dump when I do, ha ha.) This chapter is somewhere close to fourty, probably fifty with the cookies. So you shall enjoy! THE AXEL DEMYX LINE! I'm a bad, bad person. I should not have wrote that. But I did. And I think everyone is happier for it. (Except for maybe Axel. Dodges chakram) Aw! An alert AND fav? You are too kind! (Hugs.)

(Glomps Cheerful-Pessimist and gives her a truck load of sugar loaded sweets.) And that is the best problem ever: "...While reading the story I found so much I wanted to comment on but was stopped by my urge to find out what happened next..." YAY! And I am sorry I made your parents temporarily doubt your sanity. But it was worth it for Atlantica, right? And Squrit! Yeah, he's totally gonna grow up to be a punk rawk bad ass sea horse. Hell bent on world domination, at that. He could have his own spin off fic. That would be interesting. LOLZ to Ariel! That was way too much fun to write to be considered legal. And Larxel: "...total destruction of the worlds comes to mind..." INDEED. And what does water do to fire, C.Press? "MAKES IT WET!"

(Petitions God to have the heavens part open so He can therefore bombard Cursiveismything with a plethora of heavenly sent goods. Among them are Organization plushies.) You are too kind to me, woman. But I love you dearly for it. (Even though I hate cursive, ha ha.) And I love converting people! (Totally not meant to sound religious, LOLZ.) And all of the characters have personality...except Xaldin. (Oh, but I have something planned for him, I do! But I can't tell you yet, because it's a surprise! Mwa ha ha!) Thank you for taking the time to compliment me! I appreciate it! Like, you have no idea. Tee hee.

(Hands Minnet some lovely orange soda and tangerine cookies. Felt like going citrus today.) LOL LOL LOL LOL LOL! You watched Beauty and the Beast and thought of Axel and Belle in the courtyard! I AM SO HONORED! I almost fell out of my chair! And your INTERNALLY BLEEDING KNEES! Ha ha ha ha! Axel would be proud, my dear. Axel would be proud. (Hugs.) And Demyx whining people to death! Classic! And I can't believe you liked the hair dryer thing, because I feared that was utterly and unforgivably lame. But apparently not, so W00T! And yes, MegXAxel. Quick, let's think up a hybrid name that puts Akuroku to shame! MAXEL. Or...AXEG. Yes, AXEG it is. Most definitely. Tee hee; have a spectacular day yourself!

(Glomps KittyCat—more commonly known as Sam—and hands her an entire candy store just because I can.) Axel and his peeing crisis! This makes me think of Crisis Core, and Zack having a bladder control problem. (FFVII side comment, incase you haven't played it, LOL.) You're so sweet! YAY!

(Totally tackles Espeakus and completely forgets to feed her cookies because she is too elated to see her again.) kjdkfgksjfdsalkdjsalkjdalkwdsj! ESPEAKUS! Where have you been dear? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I MISS YOU! I MISS YOU SO MUCH! TIMES TENS TO THE FIFTEENTH POWER! AHAHAHAHAHAH! (Asphxiates and dies.) Hm, that was counter productive. At any rate. You are so benevolent. Your opening paragraph just oozes with benevolency-ish-ness. (Yes that's totally a word. Look it up.) And, oh my gosh, YOUR BLATANT ARIEL HATRED! LOLZ!!! Eric The Stupid. I have to write that one down. Oh, wait, I just did. And you know Demyx and Ariel have a thing going on in secret, you just know it. AND LOLZ: Meg and Axel both desperately need to eat! They are rather emaciated looking, no? Like they both come from some remote village of a third world country. And have no fear, I have a plot engraved in my head that there is little to be done to change. I had this pairing set up all along, including the ending which I will not endulge in because I'm evil and demonic. Mwa ha ha. And omgsh, I hate the revamped Cloud, too. Not the original one, for in the original FFVII game Cloud was uberly awesome, albeit a tad insane and a whole lot of emo, but not completely. Now he's drowned in torrents of angst, what with the Advent Children addition and the Kingdom Hearts remake, and I just want to whack Squeenix ontop of the head for destroying a character that said things like, 'let's mosey on down there!' before the final confrontation with Sephiroth. I can't picture New Gen Cloud doing that. Actually, I can't picture New Gen Cloud doing much of anything besides moping and feeling sorry for himself, which perturbs me greatly. But anyway. **THIS STORY IS NOWHERE NEAR OVER. **And your thoughts concerning some children never leaving the nest amused me greatly. Don't ever change. I would be sad. And, aw, your compliments are so NICE. You must have extra NICENESS surging through your veins or something. Oh, and yes, I have attempted my own original stories many a time, but I just never mention them, for they are deserving of a fate worse than death. Or a fate involving endless re-runs of Beverly Hill 90210. Yes. Yes they are. Snow White and Larxene. Learning to live with seven to twelve relatively difficult men. They'd have marvelous sleep overs, don't ya think? (AMEN TO THE CLOUD COMMENT ONCE AGAIN.) The Goddess of the Pen? Can I have your internet babies, please? You are just that awesome.

(Hugs Erik to the point of asphyxiation and then promptly resuscitates him so he can eat his cookies.) OMGSH. Larxene X Demyx! And by Admiral, no less! I had no idea! (Admiral, stop being so humble. Roar.) Insert snickers here: you don't think the story will end up a Maxel. Or Axeg. Mwa ha ha ha. The suspense builds. (Cue dramatic underscore.) Oh, and thank you for your well wishes. They mean the worlds to me. I mean, world. They mean the world to me. I've been playing Kingdom Hearts for too long. GAH.

(Gives Bug Of Twylyte some Star Bursts, because we're running out of cookies.) Your family is reminiscent of a bunch of half dead, heartless, diabolical villains hell bent on world domination? AWESOME. Can you please adopt me? Ha, thank you so much for your kind words. They make me feel invincible. And...epic? AW MI GOSH I'M HONORED!!!! (Bows at Twylyte's feet.)

(Takes a running leap into Serenities xiii's arms and then shoves multiple cookies down her throat in pure jubilation.) GREASE! WEEEE! How are you? (Does a happy dance.) I'm thrilled to be your drug dealer, as far as fanfiction crack is concerned. Only you won't suffer withdrawal symptoms or cold sweats if I don't update for a couple months. LOLZ. Tee hee. Roxas. I adore Roxas. (Or 'that damn little booger' as Axel so affectionately calls him.) I tried to stick him in this chapter, but it was the emo version. Oh well, he's still a dork wad in the flashbacks. HAHA! Hope made you a Larxel fan! HAHA! She is very persuasive with her logic, I must say. And, SQUEE, I threw you off guard! Isn't it fun to be unpredictable sometimes? Oh and: heh, foreshadowing. And that is all I will say. XP

(Hands Xemagirl two thousand chocolate chips.) W00T! You like my story! And yes, I must lurk on deviantart now! I usually do, but I've never really looked at the literature posted on the site. Thanks for you screen name, I'll be sure to check you out!

(Leaps into Splat's arms and spoon feeds her copious amounts of Jolly Ranchers.) HAHAHA! Yes, you DID call it! I've had this planned all along, and then you mentioned it, and I had to keep my mouth shut (...me is evil...) but it's all good because think of the surprise! And yes. Meg or Mulan. Hm. Why don't we just throw one big Disney character orgy and call it a day? That would make Walt turn over in his grave. Not that Home On The Range _didn't_, but still. AND MAJOR LOLZ TO AURON AND MEG. I totally did not remember you said that until after I was done writing the chapter. Though I gave them more of a protector/guardian bond but still. I always thought those two would get along. (Ha; Demyx. I want to feed him cookies. With multi colored sprinkles.) Yes, Jesse McCartney saying 'booty' doesn't work in my mind either. He's much more akin to wanting a girl's soul than booty. Zombie eater. I always knew there was something wrong with that kid. At any rate. HORRAH I APPARENTLY SUCCEEDED IN WRITING MEG! That means a lot coming from you since you are, like, the official Disney guru of the world. (I almost said the states but then I remembered you live in Canada.) **THIS STORY IS NOT OVER!** LOLZ. EVERYBODY KEEPS THINKING THAT! Yes, Axel has many more worlds to visit. I'm not gonna let him off the hook that easily. And how could I forget about Adelaide? And sdjhiudshfskjfdhslkjdh "Jack's got stretchy bone going on in his face, there." CLASSIC. "Hell? That's about five miles from here." Oh Splat. You're a genius. You really are. Pinocchio? Now I have to go watch the movie again, if only to divulge in the deep, dark subplots laced within my ancient VHS tape. Perhaps there's a hidden political statement. (HA: the songs made me want to set myself on fire! Priceless!) And what's this? Two one shots? How did I miss these? I must go read them! I must!

(Hands Hope her own Candy Planet, since it's bigger than her usual truck load of sugar infested sweets.) "...I find myself loathing you with the burning passion of a million heads identical to that of Hades!..." Best. Line. Ever. Heh. I'm going to quote that to my children. At bed time. Just because I'm sadistic. Anyhow! VHS addicted munchkin! I hear ya, sista. Meg was my role model too. Her, Jasmine, and Ariel were always the ones with the most spunk to them, don't ya think? Esmerelda was amazing, but she was never a Disney princess (or in any of the KH games, for that matter.) And Jane from Tarzan is always good for a laugh. Falling for strange, ape like men in loincloths. And then trying to teach him English. (You would think if he really _were_ raised by animals, he would have jumped her from behind in three seconds flat, as most apes do, but somehow he managed to maintain enough discipline to attend classes with said exploration guru for reasons they never explained.) Anyhow. Digression. It's fun. I KNEW YOU'D LIKE THAT ROXAS LINE! "...you're gonna end up with a _blond_..." Tee hee hee. Suspension builds. (Oh, and gluing one's self to the computer is not good, for unless you have a bed pan within your proximity, nature will be calling sooner or later.) I WANT TO SEE XEMNAS PRAISING HIS GOD OF LUNACY! Consider it done! Oh, the fun I will have! (Laughs diabolically.) Heh: the snickers bar. Half eaten, at that. And of course I pimped your vids. They're freakishly amazingish awesomness. All bottled up in a computer screen. One day my monitor will be liable to explode from the sheer amounts of win that are contained within your videos. Indeed.

(Hands raiko some yummy vanilla popsicles.) SQUEE! I made you like Axel even more! I'm honored! (Bobs with glee.) And yes, the movie of Hercules was amazing, was it not? And I am so happy you enjoy the flashbacks! They are such a joy to write, and I put more thought into them than I should, so it's wonderful to hear that it's not all in vain. Oh, and when did Demyx enter a tournament with a bathrobe? It was totally armor. You must have missed that line (wink wink.) Heh; Meg and Larxene. Now **THERE'S** a cat fight you don't wanna miss. If only Megara weren't out of commission when Larxie entered the ship. It would be like an episode from Jerry Springer.

(Gives Nightshroud a bucket of hot fudge. No ice cream, just fudge. Because fudge is the good stuff.) LOL! Don't give up hope on Larxel yet! You never know what's going on inside the sporadic and sometimes hazardous mind of Vixen! Maybe he'll go back to Atlantica and end up with Ursula. Or Destiny Islands and court Pluto! Yes, that is my OTP right there. Pluto and Axel. Commonly known as Paxel. (OMG, that's an anti depressant! Though that may be Paxil. But whatever. Close enough.)

(Hands Reading Chick a gift card for Borders, which happens to coincidentally have a café inside which serves gaboodles of cookies.) You saved my story on your laptop? OH MY GOSH! That's...that's so flattering! I don't know what to say. Really, I don't. I'm glad I can cheer you up when you are blue. Reading about undead pyromaniacs trying to prove their heterosexuality to a bunch of princesses never ceases to make me smirk either. Heh. I am so glad you enjoy it. AND HORRAH! You like how I write Larxene! I DID NOT FAIL! (Does a happy dance.) And you even commended me on my conversational tactics! Wow. Can I have your children? (...Even though that would never work out, assuming you are a girl by the suffix of 'chick' at the end of your screen name. Oh well, we can have internet babies!...) Oh, and this, this right here, this made my night: "...What you said about borderline illegal pairings on your profile? You belong to the group of authors that makes crack pairings possible..." SQUEEEEE!

(Glomps Mousewolf and hands her a Nerds Rope.) Thank God you seem to think I did Hades right. That was the most intimidating factor of this chapter (aside from the cookies.) You have no idea how many times I watched Hercules trying to get his personality right. I think I inadvertently melted to the couch given the vast amounts of time I sat on it staring at everybody's favorite blue undead god of the underworld.

(Hands Shizuka a multi colored sprinkle cookie with extra sugar topping.) SQUEE. You are too kind! I am glad to hear you think my idea imaginative, for I atleast attempt to trod down the unbeaten path. I usually trip and fall somewhere along the way but once in a while I barf up something people seem to like. And it makes me all warm and happy and tingly inside! Aw! The YouTube cutscene! Axel just stood there like a dolt. 'A female? What's that? I'm always paired up with underage boys!' Heh. I did not just say that. (Oh but I did.) AND OH MY GOSH. You thanked me for taking the time to thank you! That's really sweet! I feel invincible right now, just thought you should know. (And by the way, do you happen to have a fanfiction account? You weren't logged in when you left your lovely review, but I noticed you utilized some very pretty words and was wondering if perhaps you penned some stories of your own? I would love to check them out!)

(Hands Angel's Archer some puffy white marshmallows because they are similar to puffy white clouds. Cuz you're an angel. Get it? Funny? Okay. Never mind.) "...Yes Dutch. I come from the land of cows, cheese and wooden shoes..." THAT STATEMENT WAS FULL OF WIN! I was laughing uncontrollably for seven hours straight. They needed to take me to the hospital because my sides split open. I required seventy nine stitches. On each side. And some on my jaw, because it hit the ground. Yup. HA: the 'is it that obvious' line! I still, to this day, have no idea what inspired that. I probably never will. Maybe it's better that way. (And you _should_ write your own story! I'd read it!)

(Is put in traction from ChaoticDarling's previous tackle glomp, so was rendered incapable of buying any goodies to feed her. Hence she proffers her with Hospital Food. Yum yum yum.) LOL! Everyone loved that Demyx line! He's like one giant plushie, all I want to do it tie him up in my basement and feed him cookies. Or perhaps frolic through a field of tulips while holding his hand. Or play hop scotch. Yes. These are the things I can see Demyx doing. And YAY! You like my feeble attempt at detail with sporadically placed humor! (Grins.) Thank you for your concern. :)

(Gives Childhood Aspiration 100,000,000 cookies for loyally reviewing all my recent fics.) "...Oh My Gosh! You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this update! ...Well, you can probably guess...about since I read your last chapter. Duh, right?" That was hilarious! Hee. Made me smile. And thank you for always reviewing every piece of chicken scratch I try to pass off as writing. It means a lot to me (you reviews, not my chicken scratch.) At any rate: mwa ha ha! My gay Demyx moment! I have a feeling I'll be taking that one to the grave. And then some. (And SQUEE! You picked up the movie lines! They're in there largely due to the fact I always watch the corresponding movie before writing the appropriate chapter, so all those sayings are fresh in my mind as opposed to covered in an inch thick layer of dust from my grammar school days.) And hurrah! I passed the effectively-writing-as-Meg-test and didn't fail! W00T! Enjoy your 100,000,000 cookies, dear!

(Glomps Story Weaver, and is so busy glomping forgets to bring the cookies.) Mind games with Demyx are no different than mind games with a rock! HA HA HA! You're funny! And yes, I had Meg picked out for a long time. Tee hee. I always thought they'd mesh well together. Oh, and this time Demyx pwned Hades! Well, sorta. Technically he pwned Auron but whatever. Axel lost. Ha ha. I'm sadistic. Larxene is beginning to rub off on me. (Oh, here, I found a cookie in my pocket! It's oatmeal raisin. Yum.)

(Hands Media Maiden some Nobody Chow from Petmart.) Still have Demyx tied up with a toaster cord, I see. I hope he is fairing well. I hear he's quite the excellent cook, so perhaps you should tie him up in the kitchen as opposed to the basement. Get some slave labor out of it. I'll let you borrow Larxene's whip. Heh. You're right. Acting psychotic is fun.

(Tackle hugs DarkPhantom and hands 'em a nice chocolate Easter bunny, even though it is nowhere near Easter.) I UPDATED FLAMING SHADOWS! YES! YES I DID! (Points to updated profile.) See? See? See? HAPPY DANCE TIME! Whoa. Adrenaline rush. LOLZ: is it that obvious?! Heh. I'm so happy that didn't come off as lame. That's always my fear when writing comedy, and you never know if something is lame until after you post it. Funny how that works. AND MAJOR LOLZ TO I-Am-God-Axel. Ha! Ingenious. I just may have to write that one down. (And I think _I_ forgot Axel was wearing a pink bathrobe at one point, which made Demyx pointing it out all that much more amusing.) The chemistry between Meg and Axel is definitely some fun octane gas to play with. I enjoy it immensely, I do. OMGH! Blond and blonde! I never knew that! (Crap, I think I did it again in this chapter, too.) But, wow. HAHA, no, Roxas was not insinuating Axel was gay...though, come to think of it, if he did do that, it would be hilarious. Perhaps I should leave the typo in. Ha. Kidding. My attempts at foreshadowing fail. But my YouTube recs do not. Mwa ha ha. And yes, on deviantart, there is fanart to a corresponding fanfic for Demyx X Dancer Nobody. I don't know what it's called, sadly, otherwise I would forward the information to you. Wow, you're a self proclaimed book worm and you STILL like my stuff? I am flattered. (I almost wrote flattened, which would have been something else entirely.) XD

(Hands rarofdoom some blueberry cookies.) Meg IS a lot like Larxene, isn't she? I never really noticed that. I just pictured her getting along with Axel well. Hm. And YAY Demyx! He was in a lot of scene in this chapter! Glad you like my story! Thankies!

(Hugs Golden Memories and hands her sparkly golden cookies which are not edible but fun to look at just the same.) It takes me a couple weeks to reply to all my reviews. Why? Because I procrastinate. I'll type the chapter up in a couple of days, but then I have to sit down and do the cookies. I'm always torn between offering speedy updates or taking the extra time to thank people, and I find my time better spent thanking people. What was Nintendo's slogan for all their games? Late but great? Something like that. I dunno. Anyway. Tee hee. HA. Hades vs. Axel sarcasm battle! I pitted him against Auron, does that suffice? (And he gets his butt whipped...heh.) I'm so glad my flashbacks are a hit. They're my favorite to write. I love writing psychotic not-yet-emo Roxas. Because he just kicks arse. Mwa ha ha. I honestly have no idea where these, well, ideas come from. The initital idea for this story was proposed by my brother (the first intelligent thing to come out of his mouth in eighteen years.) But the rest just kind of vomits itself out on my keyboard. I have an ending planned out, I just need to get there. And usually in the process of getting there I pick up seven different subplots along the way. (And TI calculators are a pain! I, too, can not add two and two. (But apparently I can spell them.) Anyhow, I can totally see Zexion trying to fornicate with one, can't you?) Thank you so very much for the hug!

(Hugs Admiral to death and then resuscitates her so she can repeat the spectacle eight times over.) You really are one of the kindest people I've ever met. I had no idea you checked my profile regularly. And I am so touched that you take the time to worry about me and make sure I'm doing alright. Please, for the sake of the world, have about eight million babies so America can be run over by your kindness. Those eight million babies will grow up not only to be magnificent writers such as yourself, but they will obtain world peace and discover a cure for cancer while they are at it. Why? Because they will be nice. And nice people do these things. Yup. OH MY GOSH. Your Larxene X Demyx piece! Erik just told me about that! GAAAAH! I must go read it! Immediately if not sooner. Indeed. (Yummy Larxene Demyx goodness. Heaven!) Speaking of heaven, "...That one scene... I swear, the AkuRoku fans and the Larxel fans all crapped bricks over that thing, and for entirely different reasons..." Um, okay, hilarious much? That was so comical I think my next door neighbors heard me laughing at that one. I've been shying away from watching the cutscenes (except for that one Larxel one...heh) because I was holding onto the false hope that the game would be imported to the states. I doubt it ever will be, so perhaps it is time for Vixen to go YouTube it and watch the smexy-ness that is Zexion in 3-D. I need inspiration for Lethal Starlight anyway. Wait, what's this? **AXEL DOESN'T DIE**? So that's what Erik meant! OMGSH! He, like, doesn't die! Like, yay! (Totally did not know this.) I need to go read the manga. Like, now! SQUEE! Thank you for your eternal understanding and plentiful generosity. It's people like you that keep me going. ;)

(Hands therubynightmare some freshly baked sugar cookies.) Fight sarcasm with sarcasm. Brilliant. And then you add Larxene in there and things are liable to explode. (And poor Demyx, caught in the middle of it all. At least he has his thumb to keep him company.) And three cheers for Hades! Thanks for your review!

(Gives mynameisriku a platter with coconut cookies topped with copious amounts of SKITTLES.) LOL! I was wondering if anyone was going to comment on my abrupt termination of the flashback. I wrote myself, once again, into a brick wall, and needed to make a quick escape. So, kudos to you. You picked out the part where Vixen got confused! There's usually one of those moments in every chapter. Though I wrote this chapter so long ago I can't even remember when I got confused. Oh well, I'm sure it'll be evident. LOL. And Hades is someone you just love to hate, right? I hear ya. (Snickers.) Cross breeding mammals. That _was_ random. I don't know what convoluted recess of my mind I pulled that out from. Probably somewhere towards the back. I dunno. Hee hee. Thanks for the review!

(Hands Nocturnal Equine some random caffeinated beverage from Starbucks, plus five and a half early Christmas cookies, because they were on sale, and anything on sale in Starbucks is about normal price in the real world. So I could afford it.) You're so kind. And I wish I could think of something to say that could suffice in the wake of your consideration but sometimes words fail me and I opt to just blink in rapid succession. I am so fortunate to have readers like you. (Smiles.) Aw, thank you for telling me I actually posses a small semblance of talent. It means the world to me. And, yes, sometimes to do randomly burst out laughing. But that's a really bad thing to do in the hospital, because then they assume you escaped from the mental ward and call security. And...oh my gosh...**THIS STORY IS NOWHERE NEAR OVER**! You poor people! Did you really think I would leave you hanging? Like, I wouldn't finish up all those subplots I've got lurking around? Eeep—blasphemy!

(Hugs SonChan too tightly and she consequently chokes on her chocolate chip cookies. Luckily, Vixen is certified in First Aid and is able to perform the Heimlich Maneuver without breaking any ribs.) SQUEE! I made it to your profile! Oh how honored am I! (Bows before the great SonChan.) Thank you thank you thank you! And you even take the time to care about my well being! AW! You deserve more cookies. Nah, scratch that. You deserve a cake. An entire frickin' cake. All to yourself. And it's a _special_ cake. It has no calories! (Oooooh!) Anyway, ha ha. The Great Ninja Master Of Characterization! That just made my life worth living! "...and even Demyx, in his tweaked semi-gayness..." HAHAHAHA! That is the best way to put it, right there. Just...wow. Just wow. You're hilarious, did ya know that? Here, have a bucket of win.

(Gives Anthrax-Pretzels some cyanide cookies, just because she seems to have a thing with lacing her foods with various poisions.) Wow. My lame attempt at humor is...lame. Yes, and OMGSH. SUBTEXT! Say what now? Can I do that? Is that legal? Quick, call the cops! EEP! And YAY, Demyx appears in this chapter! Tee hee, thanks for the review!

(Leaps into Padfoot's arms and presents her with a large assortment of cheesecakes.) OMGSH! You got your friends to read my story too? AND THEY ACTUALLY LIKED IT!!!?? AND THEY READ CHAPTERS IN THEIR FREE TIME?!!! AND THEY RIGHT DOWN MY QUOTES? **I AM SO HONORED! **Here, they must have cookies too! (Pours sugar wafers down upon not-so-sharp and Queen Sparkle's heads.) And thank you very much for your well wishes concerning my health. I truly do appreciate it.

(Gives Constance Greene some Valium because she's about ready to self implode.) OH MY GOSH WOMAN! YOU DIDN'T WRITE A REVIEW! YOU WROTE A FRIGGIN NOVEL! I LOVE YOU! MARRY ME! I don't even know where to begin. Like, AHAH! That was the best high of the evening! A Constance review! And now anything I write in response will look like Axel piddle in comparison. (Yes, Axel piddle. On the dead souls. More specifically his grandma.) Do you have any idea how fun your reviews are to read? Never before have I been so entertained while receiving such honest insight. You should become a critic. But your critiques would probably be more entertaining than the actual work you are critiquing. EEP. Maybe you should stop reviewing my work! It pales in comparison to your reviews! (And...all your compliments I need to thank you for...where do I start? No, really, where do I start?) OMGSH, I did not fail at writing Demyx? YAY! And sdkjhfskjhdfslkjdh if you made me fan art I'd be your slave for all eternity and then some. AND I'd give you a kidney! Well, if you ever needed one. If you didn't I doubt you'd want, like, three. Maybe you could sell it. On the black market or something. You can make some good money that way. "...[It's almost if I'm playing the game or watching the movie (of course, they wouldn't put in such snazzy, witty and rich dialogue)..." Best. Compliment. Ever. I will officially be floating on air for the next three weeks. Like, you have no idea. (LOL, and good luck erasing your brain.) HA: na na na Meg you can't kick me—OW! I should put that in there. Yes. Yes I should. And Larxene kicks Sora? Twice? Oh, I need to watch the rest of these clips. I stopped because I was hoping they'd import the game but I doubt they ever will. So I may as well go spoil myself. (Just like I did with Heavenly Sword...Lord knows I will never be the proud owner of a PS3. Contrary to popular opinion, starving artists do like to eat.) Thank you times ten to the billionth power for leaving such a long review. You have NO idea how happy that made me. I am thrilled my version of Demyx is plausible in your eyes. I think I'm beginning to develop a full blown crush on that kid. Explanation unknown. I just am. Must be the mullet. Yes. Only Demyx could pull a mullet off. (Thinks of Axel with a mullet.) SHIVER. SEE? Only Demyx. Indeed.

(Hands XitaTheUnlucky a four leaf clover and a leprechaun for luck. Because I am lame.) HA! I love how I pulled you away from an intirely _sane_ story to read this! That just makes me giggle. And—eep—sorry the Demyx hi-I-am-quasi-gay line disturbed you! It was totally a one time joke not meant to carry any subtext whatsoever. And HORRAH! You liked the Maxel conversation! WEE! "...or at least he thinks its mud... I do have big dogs..." I was rendered incapable of maintaining a healthy supply of oxygen after that comment. Like, you have no idea. WIN WIN WIN!

(Stares slack jawed at Zaz9-zaa0. Is rendered incapable of closing lower mandible due to the vast amount of shock coursing through veins.) YOU'RE the mastermind behind Pax Versus in the FFXII fandom? **I NEVER KNEW THIS**. I just figured it out, like, ten seconds ago, and am now in a traumatic state of stupor knowing you somehow managed to find pleasure in reading my pathetic attempts at chicken scratch when you yourself should be published five times over. I...How...What...Who...Um...THIS MAKES NO SENSE. Pax Versus floored me with it's literacy, so much so I was unable to piece together a coherent, substantial review because even my praise looked lame when compared to the aforementioned story's wake. And now I find you've been reading MY stuff, and actually deriving ENJOYMENT from it...and...and...and...Vixen has no words. I'm speechless. What do I say to this? Well, first I must ask you one thing: where did you learn how to write like that? My gosh woman! You have mad writing skillz, like whoa. I felt so dinky in comparison. I still do. And to know you actually enjoy my story, given your vast amounts of talent and ability to probably pen anything I've done ten times better, means more to me than...um...eighteen truck loads of chocolate fudge! Yes. Yes it does. If you'll excuse me, I need to go pass out now.


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